Night, Walkers

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Bothawui was the most amiable planet in the galaxy.

Torrsk Oruo'rel was biased of course; not only was he a native of the Bothan homeworld, he was the closest thing to a Senator in what was laughably considered the Alliance government. Even so, the rolling hills and grassy plains - open, fresh, and largely unmarred by industry and civilization, save for a few carefully isolated pockets - conformed with the ideals of a good many species. Only a handful of races, who had adapted to worlds closer to the environmental extremes, failed to appreciate the pleasant surroundings that his world had to offer; even the Mon Calamari were happy enough, once you got them close enough to the coast.

Unfortunately, the General had few opportunities to enjoy the finer features of his homeworld. Trapped within the Intergalactic Trade Mission at the heart of Drev'starn - one the hub of the Bothan Spynet, now home to Alliance Intelligence and SpecForce as well - he was a far cry from the familiar hillsides of his childhood; though when the wind crossed the praries in the right direction, it almost smelt like he was back.

Today the winds were blowing in all the wrong directions, both meteorological and metaphorical. Times were desperate for the Rebellion; and desperate times called for desperate measures.

The doors parted to allow the entrance of Colonel Regulus Starborn: one of the seven Regiment commanders attached to Command Division. Like the General he was stationed here at Bothawui, close to the Alliance's military leadership; and like the General he had arrived precisely on time. Oruo'rel of course trusted all of his senior officers; but slightly less hairless than his human collegues, Torrsk found him considerably easier to work with.

"Regulus," he said in greeting, his Bothan accent rolling the letters into a purr.

[Regulus Starborn]

“General.”

Starborn didn't consider himself to be on a first name basis with Torrsk and trying to pronounce the Bothan's last name was a linguistic mine-field. He paced into the General's office, a slight limp in his left leg and gave the room a once over. It was an old habit from his days of active service, trying to identify potential threats and exits within a moment of entering a room. The soldier in Regulus couldn't help himself, even on Bothawui. Especially on Bothawui, in fact.

“It is General today, isn't it? This isn't some Council business you've got me here on?”

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

A laugh that sounded more like a muted bark tumbled about in the back of the Bothan's throat. "Most definately General," he assured, inviting Regulus to sit down with a wave of his hand.

He pondered his choice of words carefully, wondering how best to alleviate the Colonel's concerns without forcing him to repeat too much of the mission brief itself. He settled on the simplest - and most cynical - summation.

"The Council has insisted we strike a decisive blow against the Empire, to show that we still mean business and to improve morale across the Alliance. Unfortunately I am to do it covertly and 'cost effectively'." His mouth drew into a tight line. "I am forced to make use of resources in which I do not have complete faith, and would appreciate having some of your men on hand to clean things up when they inevitably go wrong."

[Regulus Starborn]

“Clean up?”

A frown wrinkled the Colonel's brow and he gave a little shake of his head to the chair Torrsk had offered. Standing suited him better. After all, he didn't want to get comfortable.

“I'm all for sticking it to the Imps but wouldn't it make more sense to send my boys in from the get-go? Save them the trouble of cleaning up someone elses sorry mess.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"General Oruo'rel, a Captain Raurrssatta from Alliance Navy to see you."

The protocol droid outside the Bothan's office chimed in on the comm with an appropriately polite voice.

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

"Funny," Torrsk replied to the Colonel. "I posed exactly the same question to High Command not four hours ago."

A hint of sigh escaped him. "They didn't seem to have an adequate answer either."

A paw smoothed down the longer whiskers around the General's mouth, simultaneously restoring his composure. Leaning a little closer to the intercom mounted into his desk, he pressed down the talk stud.

"Thank you, TC-43," he called into the reciever. "Please send him in."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Captain Raurrssaatta strode in, not sure exactly what to expect and thus he kept any nonsense to an absolute minimum. The protocols of military culture were still something he was learning, but he hadn't previously had any appreciable experience with the Alliance Army. He imagined the differences were subtle, but as long as he was willing to keep to task and fight Imperials, there shouldn't be much to inter-branch cooperation.

"Generral."

He gave a curt salute.

"Captajin Terrrjius called me off jinterrdjictjion jin the Death Wjind Corrrjidorr; sajid you had a specjial assjignment?"

He looked to a man he was unfamiliar with, whose pips noted a rank of Colonel. His eyes quickly returned forward to the General.

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk waved Raurrssatta towards a seat as well. He never really had understood why Human military officers had such an obsession with remaining standing, when perfectly good chairs were littered all over the place. It was an unfortunate habit that had rubbed off on other races over the years thanks to the Republic; and while the Galactic Empire's xenophobic attitudes had brought a silver lining in the form of a generation of new non-human soldiers who didn't necessarily snap to attention every time anything remotely significant happened, the damage unfortunately couldn't be undone on those already in service.

"High Command has a mission for you," he confirmed, careful to verbally distance himself from the decision, even though the distinction was technically moot at this point.

He paused for a moment, before activating the comlink once again.

"Fourtythree - please send in the others."

[John Glayde]

"I guess that means us," Glayde said aloud, not giving the droid the opportunity to relay the command.

He rose to his feet, and swept his eyes around the others who had been waiting patiently outside General's office with him. Two - Onashi and Tallen - were all too familiar; and even Maren Dirge was someone he'd met before. The fifth member of their group was a complete mystery; and something about her made him decidedly uncomfortable.

Now was hardly the time to dwell, however. Stepping through the door, he strode smartly towards the General's desk. A quick scan of the surroundings found the only chairs close to the desk occupied; there were more in the room of course, but Glayde had no idea how Oruo'rel would feel about him rearranging his furniture.

It was only previous encounters with the General that prevented him from snapping instantly to attention. "General," he said with a curt nod to Oruo'rel; a matching "Colonel," was delivered to Starborn. His eyes settled on the third member of the ensemble, and his mind drew a blank: not just on the name or the rank, but on the species.

He frowned slightly. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk fought the urge to roll his eyes. While not at attention - which was progress - Glayde had adopted that curious 'at ease' posture that Humans alternated between. Supposedly it was more comfortable than standing at attention; Torrsk had tried, and had decided that he much preferred being seated. But apparently, it made the Major happy to do such things, and he was a people-person after all.

"Major John Glayde," the General introduced, "This is Captain Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta, officer commanding the Novgorod. They will be providing air support on your mission -" He interrupted himself, a slight testy edge in his voice. "- as I will explain, if I may be permitted to carry on with this briefing."

His gaze turned on the quartet of figures standing behind and beside the Major. "Or would you all prefer to do more introductions and socialising?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr took up the offered seat, and after briefly adjusting his coat, he nodded.

"jI'm herre to worrk, Generral."

The others had a percieved familiarity with each other. So here, he was the outsider. The means of conveyance for trigger pullers and the baby-sitter of rifle jocks. He hoped there was more to it than that.

[Serasai Onashi]

"I don't care anymore, Carron," she said breathlessly. "Let the Empire fall down around us, as long as I have you, after it all."

"You don't mean that, Elia," Carron said, staring at her passionately. "The Empire is more than both of us. I love you more than anything, but I cannot forsake my oath."

Elia grabbed him, and kissed him, devouring his lips; she wanted to remember this taste for as long as she lived. Their clothes swiftly fell from their bodies, almost like they were undone of their own accord, understanding their masters' desparate need for intimacy.

Soon enough, Elia was perched atop him, his male invader at the gates of her womanly kingdom...

"I guess that means us," Glayde said, standing and looking around at them. Onashi glanced up and smirked, powering down his datapad and sliding down into his back pocket.

He let the Major and whatever the Bothan was continue their little joust, until he couldn't resist.

"Oh I'd love a bit more socialising," he said with a smirk. "Introductions never go out of style, you know. Like common courtesy and manners."

[Maren Dirge]

The door to the Generals office slid shut as the last members of the team to enter filed in behind Onashi. On loan from Alliance Special Operations – or SpecOps as it was commonly known – Maren Dirge didn't fall exactly under the command of anyone present at the meeting, not since Major Glayde had sent most of Dorn Force their seperate ways, though with Serasai Onashi and Mara Tallen present it did feel like something of a reuninon. For her sins, however, Maren was still attached to SpecForce on an increasingly frequent basis. Frequent enough to know whom seniority lay with at this particular gathering. General Oruo'rel and Colonel Starborn had reputations which preceded them. Maren acknowledged them both with a 'sir.' Likewise, Lilaena De'Ville was given a nod of respect. While the Major and Onashi stood around like loose ends, she sat down alongside the Cizerack Captain.

“Please, continue.”

[Mara Tallen]

Mara had remained silent, which, in and of itself, was a monumental feat. Once again, SpecForce command had seen fit to take away her unit and leave her dangling alone. Tossing her back and forth to take on whatever mission they saw fit to grace her with. Sending her places, as she was told, where she would do 'the least amount of damage'.

Some days, she mused tiredly, just weren't worth getting up for, and this was shaping up to be one of them.

Fingers smoothed out the leather of her jacket as she stood and followed the others inside. They lingered over the worn Sixth Regiment patch before rising to salute the General and then the Colonel, the latter of which she did not recognize. Cirr, however, she knew, and spared a brief smile for him before taking one of the empty seats and withdrawing a datapad from her pocket.

The stylus was soon poised over the screen, amber eyes gazing towards the General and waiting for him to continue.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The group she was shuffled into this time seemed like it must have been a joke. Surely they were all qualified SpecForce, but after her experiences with Aurelias Kazaar Lilaena was sure that the Alliance had a different opinion on what qualified meant. She took a seat, nodding to Dirge, a fellow SpecOps soldier, and waited for the Bothan to continue with the briefing.

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Oruo'rel almost wondered if he should have compiled a scorecard. He certainly would have racked up a good number of points from the majority of the assembled crowd. Captain Raurrssatta seemed eager to prove himself; whereas the only thing Onashi seemed eager to do was let his mouth fire without any common sense involved. The two soldiers from SpecOps were as professional as expected, equally stoic but one slightly more silent than the other. And of course Glayde was Glayde; the good little soldier no matter what happened.

Only Mara Tallen came as a surprise. She seemed uncharacteristically calm - rather different from the quick-tempered Captain that had been stricken from Dorn Force and packed off to a quiet out-of-the-way corner some months before. He made a mental note to study her record more closely after the briefing; perhaps he could divine the reason without any unnecessary conversation.

Exchanging a carefully-concealed 'And now you understand' look with Colonel Starborn, he once again reached for the controls embedded in his desk; this time dimming the lights, and activating the holodisplay.

"This is -" He waved his hand vaguely; it was hardly worth mentioning the name, considering the fact that navigational data would be provided, as well as background intelligence reports for the team to review en route, should they decide to bother making themselves even remotely prepared.

"- your target," he continued simply. "It's a modest - but important - industrial facility on the edge of Imperial-controlled space. They produce various resources and equipment for the Army and Navy; but perhaps most notable are these."

Stock gun-cam footage from the Battle of Hoth played on the flickering screen, a T-47 Airspeeder hurtling between the legs of a gargantuan All-Terrain Armoured Transport. The bane of ground forces across the galaxy for a decade or so, they were easy enough to destroy - relatively speaking - if you had the heavy ordnance and starfighter support; unfortunately, the downtrodden opponents that the Empire typically found itself up against didn't more often than not, and even the Alliance only had so much of both to spread around.

"Your mission is simple. The facility is protected by both an energy shield and an advanced long-range detection grid. Major Glayde will lead his -" He wasn't sure of the appropriate adjective to use, but he doubted it would be polite. "- team on a covert mission to disable both. Once their early warning and their primary defenses are compromised, the Novgorod will commence bombardment from the air."

"Secondary objectives for the ground team will be to disable surface-to-air weapons, and to place additional explosives to maximise collatoral damage," he added, deactivating the hologram and reclining in his chair. "As a contingency, Colonel Starborn will have forces on standby to extract the ground team, should there be -" Another vague gesture tumbled from his paws. "- unforseen complications."

[Regulus Starborn]

As the General laid out his plan, Regulus took stock of the mission group. Some had the bearing of soldiers, others the swagger of mercenaries. If they'd been a Sabacc hand dealt to him, Starborn would have folded, rather than try to make something out of such a mismatching lot. The unfortunate truth, however, was that the Alliance had to make do with limited resources. The fact that his marines - whose training was focused on ship-to-ship boarding and defense - had been earmarked to provide back-up for a ground combat mission was evidence enough of the Alliance's desperation.

Regulus eyed the group as the General's final words hung in the air.

“You're all special forces and spooks for a reason, so don't make me drag my marines out of the air for this.”

[Serasai Onashi]

"There's always going to be unforeseen complications," Onashi grunted. "This is war."

He wished there was a place to spit around here, but most Alliance areas didn't take into account his penchant for punctuating some statements that needed such.

"Better to say that we have backup in case our - excuse me, your, because they sure as the hells won't be coming down to save mine - asses need saving. Then we're all clear, no vague wordiness and implications."

He didn't look at the others, but instead smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena looked sideways at Onashi, narrowing her eyes slightly before returning her attention to the Bothan and the hologram. "I've infiltrated similar facilities in the past." When I was a terrorist. "What sort of ordinance will we be carrying? Thermal detonators?"

She made a note on her datapad, already looking at the blueprints of the factory and looking for weak points.

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

"Thermal detonators," the General confirmed with a nod.

He realised that the present company was hardly a fair and accurate cross section of either service, but there was something about the unexpected level of professionalism from both of the female SpecOps agents that caught him completely by surprise. He was still sure that the bulk of the unit was filled with undisciplined amateurs like Onashi, but perhaps there was home for them yet.

"I've also signed the release approval for a consignment of Cresh-4 explosives," he added. "I know Captain Tallen -" he cast a nod in the Demolitions specialist's direction, before turning his attention to the other two women. "- is rated to handle explosives of that yield, but I'm afraid I wasn't provided with detailed enough service records on either of you two make the same assessment." A quick glance was shot in Onashi's direction. "And ratings be damned; you'd be a fool to trust him with the stuff."

He paused for a moment, a slight frown forming on his thickly bristled brow. "I'm not even sure that SpecOps bothers with that sort of safety consideration." He sighed, shaking his head dismissively. "You're probably all out there blowing your arms off because you -" He drew quote marks in the air with his fingers. "- 'don't have time for paperwork'."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr shrugged off the frat boy guffawing and kept his attention focused directly in front of the holoprojection.

"The system ljies on a well-travelled starr lane."

His bushy eyebrows knit in concentration.

"Ourr wjindow wjill be shorrt. Once the shjieldjing jis down, we can cerrtajinly do plenty of damage. My shjip jis loaded wjith djiamond boron warrheads."

He did a few mental calculations, tracing along part of the display with a clawed finger, as a way to help him think through the plan.

"A fjifteen mjinute wjindow once those bombs go off, forr us to jump jin, bomb the tarrget, and get everryone out."

His jawline set, and he looked to the General.

"We can do that. You pjicked a fast shjip."

[John Glayde]

Glayde's arms folded across his chest. "Fifteen minutes sounds like a long time," he mused, "But that can evaporate pretty krelling fast if anything goes wrong."

"One structural brace a little stronger than specifications; one supply transport showing up off schedule; that fifteen minute attack run could easily turn into a space battle. Not only does the factory stay intact, the Rebellion loses a ship that it can't exactly afford to replace."

He rubbed a hand across his chin, suddenly realising how alarmingly Onashi-like his current train of thought was becoming. "I hate to say it," he offered reluctantly, "But wouldn't we be better off sneaking a high-yield explosive right into the heart of the base, and blowing the thing up from the inside?" He shrugged. "Why risk a ship full of lives, when you can risk just five?"

Another thought occurred. "And for that matter, just how are we supposed to sneak into a heavily protected Imperial factory?"

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

"We are soldiers," Torrsk explained, choosing to answer the why aspect of Glayde's question first. "More important, the Rebel Alliance is a political movement - an Alliance to restore the Republic. If we are to progress in this war against the Empire, we need to appear legitimate; we need to seem like a viable alternative."

He fixed Glayde with his dark eyes. "If we act as if we are terrorists, then we will be regarded only as such: fanatics devoted to a noble cause yes, but dangerous fanatics just the same. There is a fine line between terrorism and covert tactics; we need to be sure that we are firmly on the heroic side."

"As for how you will infiltrate the base -"

He let the sentence fade out, aiming to conjure an air of mystery. "Your answer is waiting for you at the starport."

[Mara Tallen]

Mara offered a small smile of acknowledgement to the General while her mind switched gears. Having Cresh-4 on hand would give her more options than just her standard kit, something which made her quite happy. While she had the clearance and certification to use it, she wasn't ranked highly enough to requisition it herself.

Her stylus flicked across the screen of her datapad, making a note about the explosive, before scrolling through the plans of the facility they were meant to destroy. She stopped a moment and glanced up, amber eyes sliding across each member of the team, stopping on the only one she didn't personally know. There would be time enough in transit to at least become somewhat acquainted.

Mara watched Cirr as he spoke, then transferred her attention to Glayde. Lips pursed as she tilted her head, mulling over the Major's concerns. Though she had the beginning of an idea, it could wait, given that the General chose that moment to answer. She rose from her seat, since his words sounded like a dismissal, while she shot a glance at Glayde that said 'I've got an idea'.

[John Glayde]

Glayde did not like that look at all. It was the kind of look that lead to a plan, which almost invariably led to Glayde finding himself in some sort of cell. Sometimes it was the brig; sometimes it was a law enforcement holding cell; once or twice it had been Imperial detention. Whatever it was this time, Glayde was absolutely sure that he wouldn't like it.

He pushed the thought aside, turning his attention instead to the senior officers. He aimed a salute at all three. "If you'll excuse us then, sirs, I suppose we'd better get to work."

He hesitated for a moment, before adding a final comment to the Cizerack. "See you soon, Captain."

* * *

"What is it?"

Glayde wasn't entirely sure who had asked. He was too busy staring at the strange craft, trying to fathom that for himself. In principle, it looked vaguely familiar, though Glayde couldn't quite place the class of shuttle that it reminded him of. Whatever it had once been however, someone had clearly butchered the poor craft. Durasteel hull plates had been stripped away, to make way for some sort of polycomposite alloy that was dark and matte, and gave the craft a boxy and strangely angular appearence. It was if someone had taken an unsuspecting shuttle, and dressed it up as a Storm Commando for Life Day.

Whatever the engineers had done to the shuttle, it had robbed the craft of the sturdy appearence that it might otherwise have posessed. And considering Glayde's recent track record with shuttles issued to him by General Oruo'rel, his confidence was at an all time low.

Glayde let out a sigh, his arms folding - as they so often did - across his chest. "First objective," he called to his band of soldiers. "Can anyone see anything that looks like a door?"

[Serasai Onashi]

Onashi puffed lightly on his pipe, as he looked at the ship with which they were to cause mayhem and spread tribulation to their foes.

"It looks like a heavily modified troop transport," he said, pointing out what he felt was obvious, striding toward the vessel with his blaster slung over one shoulder next to his pack. Troop transports were boarded via loading ramps and large detached sections of hull plating (the old LAAT gunship transports of the Old Republic).

As he stepped closer, the feeling of familiarity grew stronger, but like Glayde, he couldn't quite tell what the base model was. His first guess was the back.

Thankfully, he made the discovery on the first visual pass. A small lever, flush with the rest of the hull plating save for a small recess on the right hand side. Now that he looked more closely, he could see the outline of the boarding ramp. He pulled the lever and heard the servos within begin turning.

With an echoing sound, the clamps holding the ramp to the seals detached, and the metal walkway began to lower to the fanfare of hissing hydraulics.

"All aboard," he said with a grin, turning back and winking at his compatriots.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"So," De'Ville said, walking around the ugly craft. "The Alliance is experimenting with some sort of covert cloaking tech, and we're the guinea pigs?" She slapped the black hull with an open palm, and added, "I mean, if I have to guess. And apparently we do. Do the Bothans think it's funny to give us the bare minimum of information and just assume we'll strap ourselves into this ... whatever it is on blind faith?"

[John Glayde]

Glayde offered a slight shrug.

"I try not to put too much stock in faith, regardless of whether it can see or not."

He sized up the least familiar member of his ensemble, trying to get a read on this soldier he knew so little about. There was only so much one could safely infer from the matter of minutes they'd spent in each other's company, but already Glayde was starting to cultivate a few concerns. Knowing his luck, he'd been landed with some sort of crazed psycho who was likely to flip out at any point and slaughter everything in her path.

At least she'll fit in, he mused, his gaze settling on Mara and Onashi as he filed his thoughts away for later scrutiny.

"I wouldn't presume to know all that much about how humour works in Bothan society," he said aloud, continuing from his earlier train of thought, "But I do know how orders work. If the General in charge of Alliance SpecForce tells us to jump, we ask how high; and if he orders us to strap ourselves into this mystery box here, well -"

He offered her a tight-lipped smile. "I guess we'd better buckle up."

[Mara Tallen]

Some day, she mused silently, she'd be sent on a mission that didn't involve a ship, or hyperspace, or any mode of travel that wasn't dependent on gravity. Some day. For the moment though, amber eyes grew dark with a modicum of concern. While she trusted Cirr, the ship itself left a little bit to be desired...at least visually speaking. Mechanically, it would remain to be seen.

Fingers tapped along her bottom lip as Mara held back a retort to Glayde's little 'good soldier' speech. Even following orders to the letter could and would get a SpecForce soldier screwed over hard in a distinctly unpleasant manner. But he outranked her, and as always, there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it without getting herself tossed in the brig.

Her heavy boots clanged as she stepped onto the ramp Onashi discovered, and she favored the man with a smile before-

"Captain Tallen?"

Shit, not again...Mara grimaced before regaining control of her expression, turning slowly on one heel to face the young man holding out a clipboard. Young officers with crisp uniforms and haughty accents had a habit of delivering bad news to her. And never in a place where she could eat them without getting court martialed.

Mara simply arched a brow and looked down at the paperwork that apparently demanded several sets of initials and a signature.

"You need to initial here...here...and here....and then sign here, before I can release the Cresh-4 to you."

She exhaled the breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding and did as he asked, amber eyes watching closely as the crates were brought up the ramp and secured in the hold. This time, when she passed Onashi on the ramp and boarded the craft, she flashed him a full grin that might have had a little too much fang in it.

[John Glayde]

Glayde watched and waited as his equipment, his ordnance and his team - or at least, what passed for his team these days, after other SpecForce assignments had picked it apart like star vultures on a whaladon carcass - were loaded into the flying deathtrap that SpecForce had provided.

Or at least, Glayde hoped it was a flying deathtrap: emphasis on the flying, as opposed to on the death.

As the last of the crates was loaded aboard, and the last of the team was ushered inside, he returned the snapped salute offered by the Corporal with the paperwork, and clambered aboard himself. A fist punched the controls just inside the hatch frame - a keypad that he'd quietly sought out a few moments before - and in obedience the servos and hydraulics went to work heaving the rear hatch closed.

The flow of natural light steadily narrowing into oblivion behind him, Glayde matched through the spartanly scaled aft section, and into the shuttle's cockpit. "Out," he instructed firmly as his eyes settled on Onashi, making himself comfortable in the pilot's seat. He waited a few seconds for the mercenary to adopt the station of navigator instead, before settling in behind the controls himself.

In an uncharacteristic display of helpfulness, Onashi had already begun the preflight sequence. A few more switches and keystrokes later, the repulsorlift generators hummed into life and the shuttle rose from the deck, offering a disconcerting shudder as it did.

Taking a few moments to adapt to the controls - while it may have looked flimsy, the shuttle was surprisingly light and responsive on it's feet - he increased power to the drives, and sent them souring out of the bay.

"I hope everyone went to the 'fresher before we left," he called over his shoulder, hoping his voice would carry into the compartment behind. A structural groan from the shuttle answered; his mouth drew into a line, his voice turning grim and quiet. "It's going to be a long flight."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

There were three things that the planet Dar Akuz had going for it.

1. It was near a major Imperial space lane

2. It had an abundance of ore used to refine durasteel

3. It lacked any other defining characteristic.

The Empire had long-since nationalized the planet from a Corellian megacorporation in the name of the war effort, and used its key position and easy access to natural resources to make it a key production facility for ground armor. Both Arakyd and Kuat Drive Yards operated vast mines, smelters, foundries, and automated assembly factories. While droids fit the final war machines together, most of the labor in the mines was done by slave labor. There wasn't anyone to object. Beyond the sprawling factory district and blight of the ugly buildings surrounding, the landscape was sun-baked crags, steppes, and mesas. While not a desert, it was certainly no tourist destination.

Cor Sarventh began his day as any other, analyzing production figures. He was foreman of the planet, and the appointed Imperial overboss over both the Arakyd and KDY districts. While not a Moff, he reported directly to the sector governor, and was often given priority to his requests of military aid. That preferential treatment ensured a Dreadnought, the Justicar, was allocated to taxi the steady traffic of military freighters to Fondor, the next stop on the line. Beyond the Justicar, three squadrons of TIE Fighters and support craft gave the massive factory constant protection, in addition to a half dozen anti-fighter batteries and two stormtrooper garrisons. They weren't impregnable, but when a much larger fleet bolstered by Star Destroyers was within an hour's distance, you didn't need to be.

[John Glayde]

The shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. And dropped was most definately the right word. Even that unfortunate time when he and Onashi had reverted to realspace right in the middle of a meteor field, the transition from one astral realm to the other had felt vaguely smooth and controlled. This time, it was more of an uncontrolled plummet out of the hyperspace void, and the ship shuddered furiously in protest.

It wasn't long before gravity caught them; and that was a terrible new kind of dropping that he had yet to experience in the rattlebucket. Most ships had mass and momentum on their side during reentry, turning every atmospheric buffet into more of a nudge than a shove. The rattlebucket was far too light for that sort of thing; every pocket of high pressure slapped the craft round the face like an enraged Hutt.

The flight yoke shuddered furiously as Glayde tried to wrestle it into some semblance of a controlled descent. A grim look on his face, he shot a glance at Onashi. "The General really is trying to get us killed, isn't he?"

Despite the Major's difficulties however, the shuttle finally managed to level out, the flimsy hull faring surprisingly well despite the heat and friction of reentry. It dropped low over the ragged terrain of Dar Akuz; the specifications may have said "stealth shuttle", but Glayde's brain very loudly yelled "Don't get cocky, kid."

A graphical display showed their distance to target; a hundred meters; fifty; twenty; ten -

Gently, Glayde drifted the nose around, aiming the aft hatch roughly in the direction of their target. Almost on autopilot, a hand reached out to ease off the power on the repulsorlifts, a little quicker than he should have done with a craft so twitchy. The shuttle's skids met the ground with a thud.

"Sorry," Glayde muttered over his shoulder.

[Mara Tallen]

"Next time, someone else flies..." Mara growled faintly under her breath, up and pacing the small confines as soon as she was able. Trying in vain to shake off the peculiar sensations that crawled across her skin from the harrowing trip. Normally, she'd have spent it in her feline form...but there was too much work to be done along the way for that to have been possible.

Fingers pulled back her chaotic auburn tresses into a simple, secure twist, before securing the zipper of her bodysuit. Eying the carefully prepped and wired piles of Cresh-4 that were now arrayed in front of her, the demolitions expert paused. What they needed was a plan before she could decided how to divvy it up and where to place it.

Her datapad was plucked out of her bag, bringing up the factory's schematics once more. The Intel on the precise security measures was a little sketchy for the factory itself, but that wasn't a huge issue to her mind. With the importance of the planet and the security swarming in the sector itself, it really didn't need the advanced security measures of a more remote facility.

"Glayde, I've got the beginning of an idea. Let me explain it, then you can poke holes in it..." Mara began, glancing at him over her shoulder before continuing. A button was pressed and the schematics now projected into the air as a 3-D model.

"Right then. I think our easiest infiltration point will be the southwest corner. According to the schematics, there aren't any power conduits routed to this small door - its on a manual system that only opens from the inside." she rotated the image to show the door, a nondescript metal slab set between two of the support pillars for the outer wall. "There is, however, a good-sized ventilation intake thirty five feet away on the wall. Nearly forty feet off the ground, its covered by metal grate and what looks like durasteel mesh. It'll be tough to scale that height as I'll be heavier than usual, but doable."

Zooming out slightly, the ventilation intake was highlighted, as was the door. "If these inner schematics are still accurate and they haven't made any structural changes, it'll be easy enough to get out of the ventilation system and drop into the hallway that passes by the room with that door in it. From there, we'll split up and lay the Cresh-4 at the critical points in the main power hub and along the assembly line. Everything's wired to a remote, so we'll be on our way out before we start the fireworks."

[Serasai Onashi]

"I'd wholeheartedly agree with you, given he kicked me out of the pilot's seat," Onashi said, unstrapping himself the navigator's seat. "But his flying saved my life, so I figure he gets some back up."

Onashi paused for a second.

"Even if it's clear he's not trained to fly."

He picked up his gear, light and spartan for the mission; his pack was shouldered easily, and his blaster was held lightly but firmly.

"So where's the part where I get to shoot something?"

[John Glayde]

For a moment, John felt a tug of disappointment that his usual infiltration specialist wasn't there. Worse than that, he had absolutely no idea where Charlotte Tur'enne was: her last string of assignments had been classified, and Glayde had met a whole lot of resistance and disapproval when he'd tried to get to the bottom of it. Oruo'rel hadn't really bought his 'until I meet her new commanding officer, I still feel responsible for her' explanation, and had pretty much forbidden any further investigation on his part. Yet another reason to intensely dislike the General.

Enthusiastic as Mara was, and as useful as her shapeshifting abilities might be, Glayde was understandably reluctant to rely on her for a task that required a level-headed and calm approach. He didn't doubt that she was capable of performing the feats of gymnastics that she proposed; but if for some reason there happened to be complications with opening the door, he wasn't entirely confident that she wouldn't turn explosive and claw the thing off the wall, tripping every alarm in the base in the process.

"I need you with the explosives at all times, Captain," the Major countered, careful to make it sound like he was being pragmatic and impersonal. "If our demo specialist gets separated from the group for any reason, we might as well just scrub the plan right now."

He turned to Dirge and De'Ville instead, bypassing Onashi entirely. "Either of you have any experience with infiltration or Imperial security systems?"

[Maren Dirge]

The journey to Dar Akuz had been long, but also productive. Though the mission group seemed chaotic, they had a wealth of varied experience to offer. Tactics were debated, plans drawn up and then summarily shot down, and by the time their shuttle hit the ground there still wasn't a firm consensus about how they were going to complete their goal. In addition to this, it had also given Diren the chance to get a feel for the personalities of her team-mates. Knowing their personalities – their moral and ethical persuasions – could mean the difference between success and failure.

When Major Glayde addressed her directly for the first time, Maren smiled a thin smile. She had just strapped a holstered side-arm to her body-glove and was in the process of snapping into place a thin utility belt, fitted with a number of small pouches.

“If you'll recall my last assignment, Major, I was in deep-cover for months with the Imperial garrison occupying Theed. I'm familiar enough with their technology and routine security procedures to bypass their systems.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville nodded, agreeing with Dirge. "I am familiar with it as well, though not as intimately as she is." Lilaena didn't mention that to get through biometric locks she used to remove the needed body parts from beings who had clearance. Still, it was affective.

She stretched lazily, her last minute weapons checks done and her eyes ringed with black, non-reflective paint. A sleek pair of night vision goggles were strapped to her head, for a just in case scenario. Her black body glove matched those of her companions, and she slowly moved her head from side to side, popping her neck.

"I don't anticipate us running into something we cannot handle," she added. "Based on the information we have on the factory, that is. If it is out of date..." De'Ville let her words trail off in a verbal shrug.

[John Glayde]

John mused their replies. Infiltration and undercover work were hardly identical mission profiles, but he had to admit that of the group, Dirge was arguably the best candidate; she certainly stood a much better chance of fitting though those vents than he did, and he wasn't particularly comfortable about leaving his misfits outside without him.

"Then it looks we have a plan," he agreed, a musing hand scrubbing at his jaw. "Once Dirge has infiltrated the facility and opened that door, we split into two teams. Priority One is the detection grid: if we have to scrub the mission, I want the Novgorod to have as much time as possible to abort before they're detected."

He turned his attention to Mara. "You're our main demolitions expert, so I want you bringing down that array. Make sure you use your explosives sparingly: once the charges are rigged, I want you taking out as many SAM batteries, turbo turrets, and comm relays that you can find."

He hesitated for a moment. "Dirge's familiarity with Imperial facilities makes her the best pointman; she'll be leading the team. De'Ville: I need you keeping the other two alive long enough to complete those objectives; you look like you should be able to handle that."

A sigh escaped him as he glanced towards the remaining member of his group. "In the meantime, Chuckles and I will will be taking out the shield generators. Once we're done, we'll pick off what secondary targets we can, and move to rendezvous with you."

A glance was cast at the chrono on his wrist. "We are at T-minus two hours," he pointed out, addressing Dirge and her team. "If we hit T-zero and you haven't recieved a signal from me, blow your charges and take out that array. If you see the shield generator go up - even if it's early - then pop the charges. Whatever happens, we need that array down before the Novgorod drops out of Hyperspace. All other concerns are secondary."

[Mara Tallen]

Wordlessly, Mara handed the datapad over to Maren for her to glance over the schematics as she wished. Amber eyes looked from Glayde to De'Ville and then back again, settling on him for a brief moment before she turned away.

Kneeling by the piles of Cresh-Four, deft fingers carefully bent the intricate wiring out of the way. It hadn't been a necessary step to prep the explosives, but would maximize their explosive yield. Her father had taught her the trick, even taught her to do the wiring in pitch black darkness behind her back - which was possible considering the different colored wires each had slightly different textures. But that was neither here, nor there.

She could reminisce all she wanted when everyone was safely aboard the Novgorod. Until then, Mara would have to put aside the fact that John didn't trust in her or her abilities beyond working with things that exploded. Not that she didn't deserve some measure of mistrust...it was just the sheer amount of it that was staggering. Maybe her father had been right. Maybe she should resign her commission.

Thankfully, she'd learned her sabacc face from her father, and outwardly seemed only to be busy at her assigned task. Her mind may have been whirling a dozen klicks a minute, but the explosives were soon packed into a matte black case with rubber bumpers along the edges to ensure as little noise as possible. Mara stood and nodded to Glayde, securing her shatter guns in their thigh holsters as she did. A utility belt with extra clips for each and a few other assorted toys completed her preparations.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Watch Command West, Dar Akuz outskirts

Life on the wire was usually glum, so when it held the slightest possibility of not being so, military men made the most of it. A slight ground disturbance a few kilometers off was probably just a tumbling boulder or a landslide or both, but it gave bored soldiers an excuse to do something and to justify their existence. So, even though nothing abnormal was expected, the watch Captain still approved a fast patrol of two AT-RT walkers to give it a look. The area the disturbance was measured was beyond line of sight distance by a ways, and while a TIE flyover was probably more efficient, the ground guys were loath to farm out their meager responsibility to fighter jocks. The two scout walkers were scrambled, and began bounding toward their waypoint, in the ridges and broken ground beyond.

[Serasai Onashi]

Onashi grimaced as he looked at their surroundings, turning off the safety of his blaster rifle and holding it to his shoulder. They were at least somewhat sheltered by their landing place in the midst of several small mesas, and had settled directly in the shadow of one. Glayde was a better pilot than he'd thought.

"Tree lines would have been much better for cover," he grunted, nudging a skeletal bush with his boot, and craning his head up to see how high the mesas were. "This reminds me too much of Florrum."

As the others congregated and settled into their groups, finalizing their plans and grabbing whatever supplies they needed, Onashi wandered away from the landing site, only pausing to take a rocket launcher and a case of six rockets, as well as a heavy blaster pistol, along with some spare ammunition packs. He would have taken more, but he was weighed down enough as it was.

He leaned against the dusty rock of the steep cliffside of the mesa, and looked out over the arid landscape. Squinting his eyes, he raised one hand to block out the glaring sunlight, making sure his eyes weren't seeing something out of the heatwaves rising from the ground.

"Looks like we've got company!" he shouted back at the others, a grin on his face. Finally, some action!

[Maren Dirge]

Crouched in cover, Maren shot a sharp glance at Serasai, the man for whom discretion was an alien concept.

“Try to distract them without using the rocket launcher,” Dirge called out, eager that they remain undetected for a long as possible. Though she didn't doubt her own ability to infiltrate the facility, it would be made all the more challenging if the AT-RTs went up in a blaze. Trying to restrain the rest of the group from blowing up or setting alight to everything in sight would have to be Lilaena's job for now, however, as Maren slipped away from the group, skulking from the shadow of one rock formation to another, moving to out-flank the advancing recon walkers.

[Serasai Onashi]

"No promises, sweetheart!" he called back, racing back down to find a better hiding place. He did realize sourly that the rockets would be counterproductive.

Sometimes it seemed like the galaxy just didn't want him to have fun.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville climbed up the back of a pile of fallen boulders, shimmying on top with her blaster rifle extended in front of her. She spoke softly into the comm, attaching a long range scope to the barrel of her rifle. "I've got the one on the right. Anyone have a shot at the left? I will shoot on your mark."

Simultaneous shots would fell the exposed troopers on the recon scout walkers, without giving them time to call it in. She adjusted her position and tracked her target as it lurched over the landscape.

[Mara Tallen]

Oh you have GOT to be kidding me...of course. Walkers. Bloody bastards.

Mara hissed wordlessly under her breath, fighting her decidedly strong desire to grab her grenade launcher and reduce the lurching machines to piles of so much scrap metal. Though, if the others did, she might indulge her blood-thirst a little. It had, after all, been nearly six weeks since her last hunt.

To that end, the woman hefted the case of Cresh-four onto her back securing it with the attached straps that went over her shoulders and around her waist. Like a large pack meant for camping...only...with a lot more boom.

She double checked the comlink in her ear, then pulled a matte-black woven cord around her neck after ensuring the rest of her weapons were secure. The woman wasn't certain what it was exactly made of, but when she shifted, it would remain in place without changing as everything else.

Tilting her head, Mara nodded to Glayde. "I'm going to go play distraction. Give me a shout when we're ready to go. De'Ville, Onashi, on my way. Don't shoot the kitty." She grinned and turned, and in that span of time went from slender human to massive predator. The added bulk of the pack she was carrying added weight and strength to her feline form. Spikes gleamed wickedly down the length of her back catching the light almost as much as her elongated fangs and sharp teeth.

She carefully stalked down the ramp and then bounded off across the terrain. This, Mara mused, was going to be far too much fun. She lept across the rough terrain, claws digging into the rock. Moving past both of the others, she darted across the walkers' path.

[John Glayde]

There was no point protesting: standing in the way of Mara when she was in impulse mode was about as effective as trying to stop a runaway hovertrain with the power of positive mental attitude. Sure, you'd probably come out of it alive if you were a decent enough Jedi; but anyone else was gonna end up getting squashed.

Blaster rifle rising to his shoulder, Glayde watched through the scope as his so called team shot off in haphazard directions. Dirge flanked in one direction, Onashi set up an ambush in another; and Mara ploughed up the middle. Glayde cursed under his breath, hoping that they'd manage to take out the two troopers before one of them fired off a holy shit lions! message to base.

At least De'Ville's reaction had been more restrained; though he had no idea of her blaster skills were up to the standards of O'Hurn or Tur'enne. He supposed there was one way to find out.

"I have left," he spoke into the comm, training his sights on the chest of the recon driver. Granted, at this range and with this weapon he could easily pull off a head shot; but there was no reason to get cocky. Dead was dead; and there weren't any Trandoshans around to care about his score.

"Stand by to fire, De'Ville - in three... two..."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"...mark."

Lilaena squeezed the trigger, aiming for the weak point in the trooper's armor between the chest and arm. Just as she did, however, the large feline that had been Mara Tallen dashed out in front of the walkers. Glayde's shot hit, but her walker jinked unexpectedly in reaction to the creature. Her shot caught him on the shoulder. A wound, not a kill shot.

De'Ville stood up for a better angle and drew on the Force, leveling the recon scout with a headshot that crackled through his helmet's eye protection. He slumped in his seat and the two AT-RTs ground to a halt. She hopped down from her perch, walking over to where Onashi was crouched.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The shots went undetected at this distance, dissipating in the far reaches as the two recon pilots fell dead from their mounts. The built in gyroscopes on the AT-RT's meant that even without their pilots, they retained a natural, animal-like poise in mid-stance, as if nothing had happened, and they simply awaited new orders to cause them to lope forward.

[Serasai Onashi]

"Don't shoot the what?!" Onashi barked as Mara raced past. He glared, watching as DeVille and Glayde took the two kills that he wouldn't have been able to get without much more noise.

No fun at all.

He acknowledged DeVille with a nod as he rose from his hiding place and marched over to the stilled walkers and the dead troopers on the ground beside them.

"I suppose it would be impossible for us to use these as well?" he asked, arching an eyebrow while casting a covetous eye upon them. The amount of damage he could do with them, even if he was an open target...

[John Glayde]

Glayde considered Onashi's question a little more seriously than perhaps he should have. Onashi suggested a lot of things, and most of the time they were stupid; but every now and again he accidentally tossed out something that, in the hands of someone with a few extra brain cells, could turn into a half-way decent idea instead.

"I think the Imperials would notice if we strolled up in a couple of these," he pointed out, regarding the Nuna-looking contraptions with a mix of bemusement and disapproval. He was well aware of the supposed reasons that walkers were better than alternate means of transportation; but he'd always hated driving one of the damned things back when he was a Scout Trooper. Give him a speeder bike any day.

"That said," he continued, "They're probably going to notice when these guys don't report in; and leaving a couple of abandoned walkers right on the doorstep of our LZ isn't the smartest plan if we don't want them stumbling on our shuttle."

He nodded, mostly to himself. "We move the walkers, stash them somewhere closer to the facility; buy ourselves some time by giving them a larger search grid to hunt for us in."

He gestured to Maren, before pointing at one of the fallen Troopers; the one he'd felled, rather than the one with a smoking hole in his helmet curtosy of Lilaena. "And Dirge, see if you can't pull some comm equipment off these guys: maybe we got lucky, and were just handed a way of listening in on our opposition."

[Maren Dirge]

Crouching low, Maren rolled over the lifeless body of the trooper. She wiggled the helmet off of the his head to reveal a young human male, his eyes still open.

“Earpiece,” she called out to Glayde as she stripped the device from the trooper and fitted it over her left ear, a compliment to the Alliance earpiece she wore in her right.

“Standard Imperial protocol dictates that patrols check in at least once every quarter of an hour,” she went on, her hands moving quickly over and underneath the troopers armour to check on the rest of his equipment. Aside from a commlink that she pocketed, he had a holdout blaster and a rifle plus a handful of thermal detonators and flares. It was nothing that they weren't carrying already.

Maren rose to her feet and cast only a brief glance back at Glayde and the others.

“I'll make my approach on foot. Rendevouz at the entry point in twenty.”

[John Glayde]

What Dirge had dismissed as useless, Glayde regarded with a certain amount of nostalgia. The hold-out blaster in particular - a scout blaster (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Scout_blaster) like the one he'd carried at the beginning of his Imperial service - was in prime condition, and he had to hand it to the young man for keeping it so. He felt a pang of regret as he regarded the fallen Imperial; not long ago, the naive young man willingly enslaved to an Empire he did not realise was evil had been him. It was only luck that had prevented Glayde from suffering the same fate.

I'll put it to good use, he vowed silently, extracting the holdout blaster and tucking it into his combat webbing next to the twin that it already carried.

He rose slowly, offering a somber nod to Maren. "Copy that," he aknowledged. "I want you checking in every five; two taps on the comm to request clearence to speak."

It was all standard operating proceedure; but it still made him feel better better to say it out loud. He turned to De'Ville next, and gestured towards the trooper she had felled. The hole in his head didn't fill him with confidence, but it was worth checking anyway. "See if his comlink is still in one piece," he instructed. "And if it isn't... maybe there's still enough chunks of it left for us to work out what frequency they're using."

His eyes settled on Onashi, amorously staring at one of the abandoned walkers. "We'll move the RT's," he said, holding back a sigh. "Captain: once De'Ville is done, I want you two to find somewhere to hide the bodies, and then head for the RV. Onashi and I will meet you there."

He fixed Mara with a look. "And try to be subtle, if that's not asking too much."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena looked down at her handiwork and then back up at Glayde. Her superior officer. While he conversed with Captain Tallen, she knelt at the shoulders of the fallen trooper and eased the helmet off.

Blaster bolts did a specific amount of damage when one sizzled through a body. Confine that energy to an armored helmet and direct it through a head, however... Her lips curled with distaste as the helmet came free. The male face beneath it was ruined by a blackened hole in it's right eye, reinforced plastic from the eyepiece imbedded around it. The back of the head was a mess of shattered skull and cooked brain matter.

She hooked a gloved finger around the ear piece and pulled it free of the still-warm corpse. It was gory but intact. And also inoperable. The excess energy from the energy bolt conducting through bone had shorted it out. De'Ville pulled it away from her ear, giving the comm piece another wipe down before handing it over to Glayde. Discovering frequencies from defunct equipment was not in her wheelhouse.

[Serasai Onashi]

Glayde grimaced as well, glancing at the inoperable ear-piece and tossed it to Onashi absently, already seeming to write the thing off.

Onashi deftly grabbed the little device and looked it over thoughtfully, licking a finger and wiping it off. Sticking his thumbnail into a small crack, he applied pressure and with a small snap the casing split open, revealing the torched mechanical innards.

He whistled and pulled out his comm device; a similar though less destructive process had it open as well, and he pulled two small wires from it and wrapped them around a tiny piece within the ear piece.

His whistling picked up a fast, jaunty tune as he worked, and reached its high point when he turned on his comm unit and began playing with the controls.

He grinned in satisfaction as the comm unit suddenly burst into loud static before calming down and going silent.

He looked up to find Glayde looking at him incredulously.

"Always a look of surprise, John," he said, pulling a spare ear piece out of his pack and assigning it the same frequency as the now defunct Imperial one.

[John Glayde]

"This isn't surprise," he fired back. "This is relief. These few glimmering moments of usefulness are the only thing that explains why I haven't shot you yet. It stops me questioning my sanity."

Not bothering to say anymore, and gripped with a certain amount of reluctance, he clambered his way up into the AT-RT, instantly uncomfotable at being perched so high and so visibly above the ground. That was another thing he found infinitely preferable about speeder bikes: not only were they a damn sight faster; you actually spent most of your time crouching down, rather than being perched on top like a Hutt on a platter.

Experimenting with the controls a little, he turned the open-topped walker a little to the left, just in time to catch sight of the earpiece tossed at him by Onashi, which would otherwise have struck him in the side of the head. He plucked it out of the air and fitted it carefully over his ear, watching as Onashi handed off a similarly modified device to the girls.

"Come on, Bookworm," he grunted, his efforts to acclimatise himself with the walkers controls making it look like his new robotic legs were shuffling uncomfortably. "Lets get out of here."

"See you at the rendezvous," he added, tossing a casual salute at Tallen and De'Ville, before easing forwards the walker controls and spurring the RT into a canter.

[Serasai Onashi]

"Stop questioning your sanity then, John," Onashi said, as if it was obvious. "Every time someone stops to check and see if they're still sane, then they're still sane. It's when you stop that you're in trouble."

"Hup!" With a gleeful smile, Onashi clambered up onto the walker and settled himself into the groove of the machine easily. Machines of war had always been easy for him to get the hang of, other than snub fighters and shuttles.

"You know," Onashi said into the ear-piece, "We might have been able to use those Stormtroopers' armor as well; aside from the blaster scars and all that, but those aren't that difficult to cover up or to make them look like another sort of damage."

[John Glayde]

"One of those helmets had a gaping hole in the head."

Familiarity with the AT-RT was swiftly coming back. Glayde had heard it said that driving one was like riding a bantha - something you could never forget - but he wished that it wasn't true. The sooner he could get off this idiotic contraption and stop feeling like such a blaster magnet, the better.

Onashi though? He was welcome to stay on it just as long as he wanted.

"How exactly do you pass off a blaster hole through the eye as another sort of damage, Onashi?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

A message crackled through the functioning earset.

"Viper Patrol, this is Watch Command West. Grid and SitRep check."

The message reiterated when greeted by momentary silence.

"Viper Patrol, report coordinates and status updates."

[Mara Tallen]

Watching Glayde and Onashi lurch away for a brief moment, she turned her attention to De'Ville who was the last one beside her.

"Alright...that ravine over there is relatively shallow, with a lot of loose rock around the top. If we shove the bodies in, we should be able to get the rocks to crumble and fill it in over them."

Leaning down, the woman tugged on the trooper's armor and frowned slightly. He'd be too awkward to carry efficiently, but dragging would be nearly effortless.

"Unless you see a different hiding spot?" Mara asked, glancing over as she partially shifted her hand, leaving herself with warped fingers and decidedly vicious looking claws. Those were soon sunk through the armor and into the troopers ankle and she started towards the ravine.

They didn't have a whole lot of time to perform this task and still be on time for the rendezvous.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena looked around, and shrugged. "Imperial bases usually have seismic sensors. Creating a rock slide may bring more attention rather than less." She clamped her hand around the edge of the trooper's armor by the armpit, the spot she'd been trying to hit in the first place. "Perhaps we can cover them with some fallen branches once we toss them in."

She eyed the other woman's claws, but said nothing as they dragged the bodies to the ravine. De'Ville left Tallen to the task of throwing the dead into the crack in the earth, and quickly gathered enough fallen branches to at least disguise the white armor from sight should anyone glance in the right direction. Once they had been tossed down into the ravine they covered the bodies as well as could be expected, thanks of course to some careful manipulation with the Force.

One remaining leafy branch was used to brush away the drag marks in the ground and then abandoned as the two women jogged toward the rendezvous. De'Ville hoped that Glayde and Onashi's task was going as smoothly.

[Serasai Onashi]

"How exactly do you pass off a blaster hole through the eye as another sort of damage, Onashi?"

Hum. Well, that one was a difficult thing to pass off.

"Break the helmet and say you fell from the walker," Onashi tried. He certainly wouldn't have fallen. Glayde wasn't likely to have fallen off either, but with the ground as uneven as it was, a little loose earth by a ravine could definitely explain it.

Besides, it was fun to needle Glayde; it made up somewhat for the lack of action so far.

"Viper Patrol, this is Watch Command West. Grid and SitRep check. Viper Patrol, report coordinates and status updates."

Onashi cast a quick look at Glayde, but the man stayed silent. Onashi swore. If he had to do this, it would not end well, but if they waited any longer...

"Watch Command West, this is Viper Patrol," Onashi replied, desperately searching around the controls of the walker. A screen lit up, displaying a bunch of information, including topological information. "We are fifteen klicks from base. All is normal here."

He paused, feeling a sense of dread slowly come up him.

"Repeat. All is normal here. How are you?"

He grimaced as the earpiece suddenly came alive.

"Glayde!" He shouted. "We're going to be getting more company, and quick!"

[John Glayde]

Glayde swore, loudly.

"Crypter, crypter!" he yelled into his Alliance headset, sending out a warning to the rest of his team. "Playboy and Bookworm are compromised. We'll provide you with a distraction, but do not, repeat, do not deviate from the mission. Disabling long range sensors and anti-air weapons is still our main priority. We will -"

He glanced at Onashi, his voice trailing off. "- think of something with the shield generators. Do not respond; maintain radio silence. Glayde out."

In frustration he tore the Alliance earpiece from the side of his face, letting it hang loose, half-tucked into his combat gear. For a moment, he wondered if there was some way that he could pin the blame on Onashi - mainly because being annoyed at the mercenary was practically second-nature by now - but he knew that for once, Onashi was mostly blameless.

His jaw clenched tight. "You know how you're always asking me to buy you a bigger gun?" he asked, reluctantly. His gaze swung across to his unfortunate partner in this endeavour; his head jerked towards the walker's controls. "The big red buttons make the guns go boom."

[Serasai Onashi]

"The big red buttons make the guns go boom."

Onashi grinned savagely, pushing the walker into a faster gait, eager to unleash death and destruction from his high perch.

"Roger that, Major!" he shouted gleefully, readying his weapons for their first barrage as soon as any enemies came within range.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The breach of comms protocol with between Viper patrol and Watch Command West was cause for concern. No longer could ground command just whitewash this. They had to call it up. Second Garrison had two TIE squadrons assigned to it, so within five minutes, a sortie was launched. The TIE/In screamed out from the city center, assigned to do a fly-over the last grid coordinates that communications had originated from. It would have a bird's eye view over the area within minutes.

[Mara Tallen]

"Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng!"

Mara hissed as the comm cut out in her ear, Glayde's last directives ringing loudly in her mind. Amber eye narrowed while normally round pupils lengthened into decidedly feline slits. She and De'Ville continued on, making their way towards the factory where Maren was working her magic to get them in.

The Felacatian paused, head back and tilted to the side, listening. "Do you hear that?" she asked softly, before a fast, practiced movement saw her case on the ground and opened, just inside the cover of a stand of scraggly trees. Two long, slender tubes twisted together into a shoulder-held rocket launcher, which was soon armed and ready on her shoulder.

A moment later and the TIE/In was visible in the distant sky, giving rise to a dark smile on Mara's lips. Wasn't often that she truly got to be the Sixer that she was. A finger flicked on the targeting and held for two seconds until the 'LOCK' flashed across the bottom of her field of vision and she fired. By the time it hit, she'd disassembled the launcher and spared a moment to watch the TIE explode in a shower of debris and rolling cloud of fire.

Another moment, and they were on their way again. There would, no doubt, be hell to pay afterwards from John. But sometimes, making things go boom was just too good to pass up.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville's mouth dropped open as Tallen squandered their perfectly good cover by shooting down the incoming TIE. She snapped her jaw shut, muscles clenching, and jerked her head toward the factory. "Better hurry it up. They're not going to ignore that and just let us waltz inside."

Not waiting for Mara to finish securing the rocket launcher, De'Ville took off at a run to make the rendezvous with Dirge. Hopefully before the security protocols were changed to high alert.

[Serasai Onashi]

"Yahoo!" Onashi whooped, seeing the distant form of the TIE explode. "That had to be Tallen. Sometimes I think I'm in love with that woman."

Onashi pushed the walker harder, though he was still careful to keep its balance. He would have preferred one of the STs, now that he though about it. These RTs struck him as just being lazy; who would not have tried to put some sort of shielding or barrier between the pilot and any sniper willing to shoot?

These were also made during the Republic, but as it was becoming the Empire; perhaps it was just indicative of how much thought the designers gave to the pilot.

The thought sobered Onashi up, to a point, and he kept a more wary eye on the horizon.

[John Glayde]

Damn it, Tallen, John's brain hissed at him, his hands shoving the controls full-forward as he kept pace with Onashi. Would it kill you to follow orders for once?

His eyes scanned the sky above them, half-watching for any additional fighters that the garrison might see fit to send out in their direction. He traced the vapour trail from the rocket that Mara had fired, watching where it disappeared into the tree line. It was dissipating fast, but if anyone was quick enough with a pair of electro-binoculars, it wouldn't take a genius to work out a location to start searching. And with Mara and DeVille now no doubt heading straight towards the outpost as swiftly as they could manage, any scouts deployed to search that area wouldn't need skill to find their quarry: they'd probably just get lucky, and bump into them.

He cursed under his breath, and hauled back on one of the levers, slowing the walk pace of one leg and steering his RT towards the trees. "Come on!" he half-grunted, half-shouted at Onashi. "If Mara's stunt ends up getting her captured, we're all screwed. Lets go be a distraction."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

With confirmation more or less giftwrapped that they had a hostile force to deal with, Watch Command West went into full battle readiness. The gates opened, releasing an AT-ST, two AT-RT's, and a troop transport speeder carrying a squad of stormtroopers. With orders to engage on sight, the Imperial strike team moved with haste to repulse an attack they now knew for certain was coming.

[Maren Dirge]

The Rebel Force's lack of discipline was a two-edged blade for Maren, with substantially more heft toward the end coming down upon her. The entire Imperial force was on high alert now, and as the factory was the primary asset in the area, any reserves not chasing the Rebel Scum Terrorists were firmly parked.

Maren was prone with her elbows supporting her torso. She frowned. Her original infiltration plan was dashed by an overzealous Tallen and Onashi. She pulled up a pair of rangefinding binoculars to her eyes and re-examined the factory's defenses. There wasn't much in the way of static emplacements, fortunately. The facility was primarily protected by mobile units, and the anti-fighter batteries would prevent most landing craft from providing a large enough force to take the facility.

The only viable option had been what they were attempting now. Maren put the binoculars down and placed them back in the protective casing on her belt.

When the subtle options were not available, there was the direct route. Maren had timed the foot patrol routes around the factory-city's perimeter. The majority of the garison's heavier equipment wasn't ready for action yet, and moving that many troops was the first order of business. Given the mayhem caused, it was likely they were expecting a larger force than 5 Rebel commandos.

Maren sprinted the 30 meters to the gate post and slid to under the window. She had a minute before the foot patrol rounded the base and would be facing her. She took a deep breath, stood, put one shot through the glass, and the other into the head of the poor sod guarding the gate. His compatriot started to draw his blaster. Maren shot him too. She beat the remaining glass away with her blaster handle and the jumped into the small guard house. She did a body check and pilfered any keycards that she could find. She frowned again. Neither of these men were remotely her size. Maren checked both hats and found one to be of satisfactory fit. Any moment of hesitation she could generate she would use to ,er advantage. Her hands went to the security consoles, and she sought any way she could give the remaining team an advantage. She paused the camera frames to a short loop with a lot of nothing. The gate, of course, she opened. She paused and set the alarm off for the east perimeter. The foot patrol that had rounded the other corner went jogging away.

With a grimmace, Maren blasted the controls. The gate held open. Maren rounded the corner and raised her eyebrows at the sight of a simple open four-seat speeder. Which she had the keys to.

[Serasai Onashi]

"Distraction? Aye aye, sir!" Onashi called back, feeling the adrenaline rush through him now that battle was imminent. It was what he lived for, after all.

He turned and followed Glayde into the tree line, and tapped his microphone to make sure it was working.

"Do we have a plan for the distraction?" he asked. "Or are we winging it?"

His first instinct would be to ascertain the route along which the Imperial response was heading, head them off, set up some explosives (even if only a couple thermal detonators) and fire when the detonators went off.

But he wasn't in command, and he really didn't want to be; this was Glayde's party, and he was merely invited.

He laughed, truly enjoying himself.