One Long Shot - (closed)

[Sniper Tondry]

(ooc) This thread is somewhat retroactive, for reasons which I hope will become clear as it progresses. Meanwhile, enjoy!

(ic)

Clangs and hisses of fusing durasteel echoed throughout the Intelligence freighter production complex. The spyships manufactured at this secret facility were top of the line- so secret, in fact, that it had been deemed illegal by Ysanne Isard to subcontract out any of the work done here.

This was the Black Projects subsection of Intelligence's Bureau N.

The vast majority of the assembly lines were busy building a small fleet of ships for the new design entitled "Breakaway". The basis for the design had come from the former freighter Trigger Happy. Pierce Tondry's old ship had been a compartmentalized structure, built that way to maximize the chances of survival for any pilots who found themselves disabled or shot apart in space.

These new ships did feature a major difference. Where the old design included an escape pod, the new design featured a built-in shuttle that included the cockpit. The freighter itself was hardy and durable, but when it had to break apart, the shuttle revealed was swift and sleek and hyperdrive-equipped. The entire thing looked much more awkward than it was, and agent tests of the new design (both in simulation and in flight) had commented on it's manueverability.

But there was one production line in the testing facility that was producing something completely different.

Pierce Tondry hefted his flechette pistol and gazed at the chemical mixing chamber before him. The weapon was light in his hands- too light, and felt not nearly as elegant as his rifle had been. He had gotten practice with it, though, and it would service in a fire-fight. Still, the weapon was designed for capture, better for security personnel than for agents whose mission was to bring down military resistance.

A large pincer mechanism reached into the vat and removed a large plate of specially treated durasteel. Another plate was dunked into the vat as the first headed to a vacuum chamber where the new hull-crafting techniques Intel had acquired would be put to use. The hull plating would make this new vessel hard and resistant to whatever the Republic could throw at it.

The sight caused Pierce to briefly remember watching the construction of his old ship. Trigger Happy had gone to rest in the Endor system, where turbolasers of TGE had shot it down, and where it had given its' last component parts to safeguard Pierce as he had made good his escape.

The net result was that the newly-minted Vice-Director of Intelligence was short one personal craft and one favorite weapon, and it would not do for him to be without both of those tools in his arsenal.

So Pierce was now replacing that craft.

[Sniper Tondry]

"What's the holdup on my ship, gents?" Pierce asked as he swaggered into the design room at the Black Projects yards. "BP doesn't usually have to ask me for things."

"We have a problem," the lead designer, a man with unkempt hair and spectacles stated.

"What is it?" Pierce asked. "Build the hull backwards or something?"

"Nothing like that," the man replied. He waved a hand at the design table behind him. "Our technology cannot make your ship a reality."

Pierce paused, then frowned. "What, specifically, is the problem?"

"The problems are threefold," the man stated. "Our cloaking technology requires more power than we can produce on a ship this size. Second, our certain turbolaser parts and the weapon's targeting programs will require advancement to the level of certain Rebel ships. Third, the manuevering jets cannot produce enough thrust to adequately turn the ship to your specifications."

"So what can I do?" Pierce asked.

"Er- we're not sure," the design technician replied.

Pierce groaned inwardly and rolled his eyes. "When you know, get back to me. I'll be around."

[Sniper Tondry]

Pierce had been sitting in his room stewing over the recent holdups on his ship. He'd put in a few calls to the design room with the same result every time: they just didn't have any idea how the Rebels did it, but they were working on it.

And with its' current problems, the ship was completely unusable. The cloak wouldn't work, the enhanced range turbolaser idea he had wouldn't work, and the ship itself was too heavy for Imperial thruster tech to move.

It was too bad that the ship was unworkable under Imperial standards.

No! Dammit, this was his ship! If it was up to anyone to make it reality, it was up to him.

Pierce sat up from his sleeping cot and grabbed for the intercomm. He keyed for the lab. "Boys!" he shouted. There was was a clatter and the sound of scuffling. Pierce grinned. "I have a question. How much does the Republic have over us in these areas of technology?"

"Erm- quite a bit sir. The A-Wing's thrusters, if upgraded slightly, can provide the thrust you require. The Mon-Calamari have power generators for their Cruiser shield towers that would aptly power our cloaking devices. And their Dauntle-"

"No, no," Pierce stopped them. "I don't want the ER turbolasers to come from the Rebels. What about the Hapans? Their Battle Dragons have better focussing techniques to keep their shots cohesive, right Crowley?"

"Y-yes, sir," Doctor Crowley began. "You see-"

"Cut the chatter," Pierce ordered. "Now listen up. This technological deficiency represents an agency-wide problem for Intelligence. I'm going to go pay a visit to Hapes to get this technology, and I'm going to put an APB to all agents for spare A-Wings and Calamari Cruisers. The Republic has traditionally had better technology than the Empire. It's time that changed."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Uncomfortable on the part of the design team, anyway. "Meanwhile, I want you gents to get my ship ready for departure. We can hook up the cloaking device later, but I want some weapons on it, and just do what you can for thrust. This ship is going to build itself."

[Sniper Tondry]

The newly commissioned freighter Trigger Happy quietly glided into realspace outside of the planet of Hapes. It had taken five days to ensure that all systems were working perfectly without the components that Intelligence had been lacking, and during those five days Pierce had done some information sifting with surprisingly successful results. When he’d finally departed for Hapes, his air was that of a man who had struck corusca while digging for quartz.

“Freighter Gadinex, this is Hapan Air and Space Traffic Control, do you copy?”

“A/STC this is freighter Gadinex, Juxom Leiger at the helm,” Pierce replied, keying in a few status transmissions and cargo declarations. “I copy you.”

“Pilot Leiger, we have you listed as inbound from Clak’Dor VII, carrying civilian-grade turbolaser parts and personal effects,” the flight coordinator’s feminine voice replied. “Please state your business.”

“I’m attending Brockton Dragon-Engineering Corporation’s conference and auction on enhanced range turbolaser prototypes for use in Hapan Battle Dragons and civilian-class vessels,” Pierce replied, hardly believing that the chance at the technology he required had fallen into his lap. The odds on this kind of thing happening right when he needed it were long shots at best. “As a representative of a financial consortium of Bith who have an interest in adapting this technology for mining purposes.”

“Civilian? Let me guess,” the woman started knowingly. “Superfluous New Rep military come to try and get our technology without really giving anything in return.”

Not even close. Just another pretty-face Hapan, are we? “Who told you I was coming?” Pierce asked genially, relaxing in his chair and keying a few more buttons.

“No one had to,” she growled. “We get several of your kind at each conference, and not one of you has walked away with the ranging tech yet. Hapan technology stays in the Cluster!”

“Surely you wouldn’t stop a guy just trying to make a few bucks from doing his job,” Pierce protested mildly. The onboard computer suddenly spat out a printed sheet of flimsy paper and Pierce began examining it.

“Can’t say that I do,” the coordinator sighed suddenly. “I wouldn’t be here talking to you if I didn’t need the money.”

“Where would you be?” Pierce continued with the small talk while frowning in thought over several things printed on the paper.

“Racing swoops and speeder bikes,” the woman said wistfully.

Pierce froze. “No kidding?” he asked cautiously. “Which do you prefer, Air-4, Flare-2, or MX-10?”

“MX-10, of course. Anyone in their right mind would pick the best-handling bike to come out of either the Republic or the Empire. How does a mil tech know his way around swoops?”

“I like to race and maintain bikes in my spare time,” Pierce explained, grinning and putting the flimsy aside. “One of my units in the army was a biker unit, and I picked it up as a hobby.”

“Figures that a man gets to play while the women work,” the coordinator’s sour tone had returned.

“Tell you what,” Pierce said. “Next time there’s a race to go to on Malastare, contact my parent company and ask for me. We can work out a trip.”

“Listen, if I took up the offers of every flyboy who wanted to date a Hapan, I’d be up to my elbows in men,” the coordinator replied. “Go pester some other hard-working bureaucrat for a date, mil boy.”

“Suits me fine,” Pierce spread his hands, despite the fact that he knew it to be an unseen gesture. “Now, how about clearing me an entry vector?”

The flight coordinator grumbled a little more, but did just that. While Pierce was waiting his turn for planetfall, he began going back over the printout, which was actually a list of other known Greater Jedi Order/Republic envoys and Hapes Cluster-based companies with interests in the conference. None of them would or could know Juxom Leiger; he had been created out of whole cloth between Coruscant and the Bith homeworld of Clak’Dor VII, with a history that had been neatly inserted into the NRI database upon his departure from the galaxy’s capital. The Bith representative who had met with him had seen a false face that supported his identity and read a list of credentials that would be just enough to get him one expenses-paid trip to Hapes. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't run into people he'd have to associate with.

And when he had succeeded in acquiring the advanced technology he sought, it would go back to the Black Projects yards for retrofitting onto his ship, not to the Bith as they hoped.

The ship ahead of him angled in for a landing vector, and Pierce followed suit after another minute. By the end of this conference, his ship would be one step closer to full combat readiness.

Pierce frowned to himself. He couldn’t keep calling it ‘his ship’, and the real Trigger Happy was dead and gone. When his little outings were done with, Pierce would definitely have to give his freighter a new name.

Less than thirty minutes later, the now nameless vessel made planetfall.

[Sniper Tondry]

"As you can see, gentlebeings," the Hapan female waved a pointer at the turbolaser hologram. "This latest upgrade to the Battle Dragon's turbolasers will allow our forces to attack from beyond normal ranges. The Hapan Battle Dragon will once again be a feared weapon of war in the galaxy. Hapans and non-Hapans alike, we thank you for coming."

The woman- a stunningly attractive one, at that- stepped out from behind the lecturn and off the stage. The schematic display dimmed, leaving only the symbol of Hapan nationality remaining.

Pierce stood up and stretched. The presentation had lasted two hours, and even though Pierce had been listening intently he was still stiff. "What do you think?" a human male wearing a New Republic commerce badge sitting next to him asked.

"It's interesting stuff," Pierce shrugged. "But I bet they're not going to sell it. Too much politics in the way."

"Yeah," the man replied. "I've been here six times since we opened up trade with the Hapans, and I've never seen anyone walk away from here with any of their mil tech. I bet no one walks away with it at tonight's auction."

"I'm not putting any money on that bet," Pierce chuckled and absently thumbed through some of the pamphlets the company representatives had passed out. They were mostly just glorified propaganda, with few real technical details. Probably just enough to tease the non-Hapans into investing.

"And thus ends three days of economic dancing," Pierce remarked to himself. He filed out of the presentation hall and wandered out of the building. Outside, he hailed a speeder and headed back to his hotel.

Once back in his room, he lay himself out on his bed. The entire technology show had been spent going to various meetings and learning more about how Hapan technology could help the Bith than he'd ever wanted to know. He did pick up one or two interesting tidbits about Bith physiology that he hadn't previously been aware of, but the whole thing was mainly a waste. Juxom Leiger may have been there to make possible investments, but Pierce Tondry was on planet marking time.

Pierce's personal commlink buzzed suddenly, and his head shot up. He fished around in his pants and pulled it out. "Hello?"

"Juxom? Juxom is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me Vadgrin," Pierce smirked. "What the hell are you doing on Hapes?"

"My job," Vadgrin's voice was sly. "I hack, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Pierce leaned back onto his bed. It was a little too soft for his liking. "That's why I issued those orders."

"Ooh, got me," Vadgrin said in mock injury.

Pierce got off the bed and walked closer to the left wall of his room. These on-site commlinks had a short range, and the closer he got to Vadgrin's room, the better. "That's better," he commented. "You don't sound as broken up now."

"Listen, Lead, I got some juicy info for you," Vadgrin began. "Seems you were right- there is a prototype focus and targeting system in the works at Brockton and- get this- it's LONG range."

Pierce blinked in surprise. Enhanced range for turbolasers was one thing- it meant you could stay just out of reach of an ImpStar III's weapons while still dealing some moderate damage. Long range was something else entirely. "What kind of range are we talking about?" he asked cautiously.

"Space-to-surface."

If he was surprised before, Pierce was now on the edge of total shock. "On a fighter?"

"That's what the test results say," Vadgrin confirmed. "Reports are that Brockton's going to deliver their functional weapon prototype tonight, along with the plans for the weapon, to the Queen Mother herself. They'll be transporting it by armored speeder from their main testing compound which is five miles north of here to the Capital building."

"Any guards?"

"Company guards and mercs. I don't recognize any of the names, which means they're probably civilian mercenaries."

Though Pierce admittedly knew very little about economic matters, he did know that money was a very strange motivator. A lot of civ merc groups had sprung up during the Rebellion, hiring themselves out to the highest bidder which at that time was the Empire.

What the real professional soldiers like Pierce now knew because of those failed operations was that people didn't put their lives on the line for paychecks. There had to be something driving them, some higher sense of duty, something the mercs with their fancy uniforms and military playacting lacked.

Then again, Pierce reminded himself, personal motivation was sometimes even more influential than duty. Personal motivation could cause a man to take big risks. Such as breaking into a compound to steal a functional long-range turbolaser prototype and wipe out any plans for the weapon.

"I really hope you got me some maps of the area," Pierce continued, hefting a tote bag over his shoulder. "So that we know when a good time to make the switch will be."

"Relax, Lead," Vadgrin reassured him. "The thing's all set up. I gotta admit, it doesn't look exactly like the pictures of the new stuff, but as far as weight and overall appearance goes, it'll do. Good idea to bring the parts in and pull off a switch on them."

"One of the few motives of economics that I understand," Pierce said. "You show the galaxy your line forces and keep the SpecOps commandos hidden."

"Right. Well, you've got five hours, Lead."

"I'm on it, Vadgrin." Pierce switched off the commlink and continued arming himself. He holstered his flechette pistol inside his jacket and wished briefly for his rifle. The rifle wasn't exactly concealable, but it did have a longer range than those blasted Guns of Command Hapan security forces used. Now there was the real danger- getting hit by a shot from a Gun of Command and being forced under the domination of the Hapans.

He was out the door five minutes later, his weapons nicely inconspicuous, but nonetheless ready for the Hapans.

Edited: didn't quite finish a sentence.

[Sniper Tondry]

Pierce put the macrobinoculars down. He’d seen enough.

Brockton Corp’s testing facility was several miles of uninhabited wasteland surrounding a technical complex. Walls, turbolaser emplacements, and roads leading to security checkpoints all protected the facility, and that said nothing of whatever guards and automated defenses were inside the building.

Pierce checked his wrist chrono’s timer. It read 04:37, meaning he had about four and a half hours to complete his infiltration and make the switch.

A stolen landspeeder was parked down the hill. Of course, if Pierce hadn’t managed evade pursuit, he’d be having company in a few minutes. Still, company or no, Pierce was getting in.

Climbing down several rocky ledges, Pierce headed for the road. A sudden whine filled the air, causing him to pause in the act of climbing down.

Apparently, he hadn’t managed to evade pursuit.

######

The police car approached the guard gate at Brockton Corporation’s testing facility. The guards at the checkpoint approached the car briskly. “Please state your business, sir,” the one in charge said seriously.

“Officer Dafydd, special investigations unit,” the policeman stated, briefly flashing a badge. “I need to speak with your chief of security on a matter of some urgency.”

“May I ask what the matter is, sir?” the guard asked, putting a helpful note into his tone.

“Don’t see why not,” the officer shrugged. “There’s a criminal on the loose, wanted at this moment for armed robbery, theft of a landspeeder, and evading planet security. The landspeeder he stole is parked about five minutes into the foothills, and we suspect he might be in the vicinity. If possible, I’d like to fully debrief your chief of security on the matter.”

“I’ll have him paged, sir,” the guard nodded, retreating to his booth. He returned a few minutes later. “Our chief of security is currently occupied, but he has agreed to see you. He’s attending to some preparations for a heavy security delivery to be made this evening, and asks if you’d be willing to wait in the guest meeting room.”

“Of course,” the officer replied.

The guard smiled, and pointed past the checkpoint’s shielding. “Through the gate, and make a left into the parking garage. Enter the main lobby and our receptionist will give you further directions.”

“Thank you,” the officer stated briskly, adjusting his shaded glasses as he did so. The shielding winked out, and the security speeder drove through it, following the paved road up to the large corporate facility. It turned into the parking garage and stopped two floors up, where the officer inside got out and headed for the walkway leading to the main entrance lobby.

Five minutes to the second later, a figure dressed in dark clothes and wearing a mask climbed out of the trunk of the security speeder and also headed for the lobby.

[Pierce Tondry]

“All units in Group A report for briefing. Repeat, all units in Group A report for briefing.”

Pierce chuckled at the people who would soon be on the lookout for him. He'd act against them soon enough, but the automated defenses had to be delt with while computer security was still on a low level.

While his mind was running over what it had to do, his fingers busy operating the security terminal. After he’d called up the proper screen, he inserted a sophisticated-looking datacard with a wire coming out the back. The wire was attached to a slim black box with a flat screen on the top.

If all went well, Pierce would be in and out of the security system just long enough to insert an innocuous program.

Of course, he was relying heavily on promises regarding the abilities of the rigger array that Intelligence had cooked up for him several missions ago. In theory, the device was capable of taking any computer system in one of the millions of programming languages in existence, decoding and translating it if given a sample program in the language, and then devising a method for infiltrating the targeted system.

Unfortunately, Pierce knew enough about computer systems to know exactly how impossible that was. The base for the rigger array was Imperial coding language, and it was targeted at disabling the New Republic’s computer systems. There was a very slim chance that it would work as promised.

Pierce had safeguards, though. He’d asked for a list of commonly used programming languages to be installed, so that the array would have some languages onhand, so to speak, when it came to decoding things. Hopefully, Bakura and Hapes used similar computing languages.

Some searching through the security terminal's desktop files produced the type of program he'd been looking for- short, small, simple, and harmless. He activated it, and copied it to the disk, then ran the program, and began playing it. The longer he played it, the easier a time the rigger array would have to determine what the program said, and where best it could insert active code in it.

A quick glance at his watch told him that he had fifteen more minutes to play Solitaire Sabacc before the timeline required him to move again. And if the dead guard in the locker behind him continued to go unnoticed after that, so much the better.

Edit: TTT.