Ghost in the grass....

[Nira Portian]

The cylinder arrived as it always did, like clockwork. Every ten days the 'reports' arrived. The signature was simply the Imperial sign, though crudely scratched, with a small eye beside it etched just as sloppily. It was as if the scribe had used a tool far too big for the job, and the control had been lacking to make it a neater symbol.

But despite the raw personal mark, the intel was much neater and concise. There was a group, just outside the Corellian capital city, where smuggling had been occuring. Everything from booze to people had come and gone in cargo containers with hinkey markings and much more fire power protection than most of the mundane stashes had required had they been on the up and up.

Once more the report came and someone was assigned to it to validate the sender and information through previously gathered intel and the various sweeps done of the spoken area since the first reports had arrived. This was number four. And obviously the writer wasn't going to stop.

“This time it is weapons.” The missive began. “There is talk of a shipment coming in three days time from the code on this message. I hope you receive it in time. There will be 8 crates and 2 different weapons. A pistol and a long arm. The types of weapons haven't been spoken of but the delivery agent promises the highest quality of Imperial defense one can get their hands on. The thought of the Alliance or the Rebellion with these weapons should be asupsetting to you as to me. I will be on watch and do what I can.”

There was little intel after that save for the usual coordinates of the place the drops were being made. The letter was simply signed, The Overwatch.The name had appeared on the third missive. And while there was nothing in the database of the person behind the name, it seemed the writer was more confident with a signature than without. The first couple letters had simply been coordinates and the words 'smuggling drop zone'. Since adding the moniker, the intel was getting more precise and detailed. Whoever the writer was, they were very concerned and were hinting they would take care of things if the Empire didn't. Their loyalty was stronger than some within Intel and the Military itself, it seemed.

[R. S. Esalis]

The messages had at first been taken with a curious eye, given little attention. But by the third, even the Director herself had begun to show a modicum of interest. At the fourth, she had begun inquiries, coded channels to her agents on Corellia. None had replied to a level that satisfied her, and after a short amount of deliberation, Esalis had opted to investigate the matter directly. She could've sent Agent Rakesh, but there was a strange curiosity that pulled at her now. This was not a situation that she could take lightly.



Ensconced in the back of a lambda shuttle that was currently hurtling through the kaleidoscope of hyperspace, the director of Imperial Intelligence busied herself with scouring through datapads and other assorted flimsies. What her operatives had been able to find about this 'Overwatch' was dismally lacking. The pattern of grammar, the style of writing, all of it was new. And it frustrated her enough to see to things directly.

"Coming up on the nav point, Ma'am."

The voice of the pilot filtered through the vox unit on the wall, and Esalis looked up from her studies with a thin-lipped grimace.

"We'll be dropping into realspace in ten minutes."

Finally, she offered a curt response.

"Very well."

And again her head dipped low, eyes going back to the illuminated glow of her 'pad.

Whoever 'Overwatch' was, Esalis would find out what her underlings had been unable to accomplish.

[Nira Portian]

Tonight was the night.


Nira had already informed her boss, and the man she identified as a father figure and mentor, that she would be out for the rest of the evening. He knew better than to talk her out of it, she would just sneak out like always.

“Be careful, little firebug.” He called in a voice that was more loving than gruff. He had nicknamed her firebug when he discovered she loved firing his weapons more than anything else. He had taught her to use the pistol under the bar when she was just 15, like he did for all the girls there. And after she killed a man in her room, at 17, he had put her behind the bar permanently. Since then he had taught her to fire everything from energy pistols, to slug throwers to the sniper rifle he used to fire for the Empire in the Army.

“I will. Just going shopping.” She said, knowing no one in the house could be trusted. Her words let him know exactly where she was going, in case she didn't return by morning.

The sun was just starting to descend as she headed out the back door and half a block away, shimmied up on the rooftops to make her way to the outskirts of the city. Her rifle, it was hers now, was stashed in a rooftop cubby just before the edge of town. She moved it often enough that she wasn't worried about it being discovered. And it was always hidden in places she knew were safe for at least the night.

Leaping from rooftop to canopy overhang, to barrel stack and then to the ground, the woman then took off at a paced lope through the back alleyways. She was in a dark colored shirt and tight leggings. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail and boots as pitch as her clothing, with soft bottoms to muffle her passing. The pace she set would put her at her vantage point with enough time to settle in before the sun went down opposite her perch.

It had taken days to find the perfect spot. She had to be high enough to maintain a look out all around. She also didn't want the sun setting behind her and giving her away when she moved. But she also needed enough cover to conceal her if she was still there at sunup.

“Sith Lords and Ladies,” she cursed under her breath just before the last building passed into her periphery, “forgot my water.” She shrugged thinking tonight wouldn't be a long one anyway. If her overheard information was right, the weapons would be changing hands tonight. She absently tapped her back right pocket and relaxed when she confirmed her voice comm stick was there. Tonight she would make notes of who was involved. Several men had become regulars and a couple seemed to actually reside permanently at the main house on the homestead. But with weapons changing hands, she figured the descriptions of the buyers and the sellers would be good to pass along.

She smiled to herself imagining those who got the messages. Wondering who she was, what she was doing and how she had gotten the information. She wasn't being anonymous to be funny. She was doing it to protect herself. If the comms ever ended up with the wrong person, signing with Nira from the Corellian Orchid Pleasure House was probably not a good idea. The comms were always dropped at the Empire Aide office on a desk she passed when going in to get her allotted rations every week. She hadn't thought of anyplace else that wouldn't have drawn attention.

The city passed behind her and her pace eased a bit. She still had a good distance to go and once more paced herself to a lazy loping gait she would be able to maintain for the next 30-40 min till she would have to enter more rugged terrain to skirt the site and find her perch.

She sighed and realized it was going to be a long night after all.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Dropping in three... two... one... "

The transition to realspace was made smoothly, and Esalis kept her eyes ahead. She could feel her body sink just slightly into the seat, but other than that, nothing. The inertial dampeners - much like the rest of her personal shuttle - were kept in pristine order. It had always been a requirement of hers, and times like now she was glad that the pilot she had had placed on permanent assignment took as serious an attitude as she did. Commander Jey Hess, once a decorated Interceptor pilot in the Navy, now her personal pilot. He'd accepted the offer, and she had put him to work without a second thought. The man was loyal, never questioning and never filling her ears with idle chatter. He understood well enough that most times she did not want to be disturbed during these sorts of flights. They two had never traded pleasantries, but that fact seemed to bother neither of them. They were both servants of the Empire, intent on doing their jobs.

As the shuttle angled left, Esalis undid her crash webbing, and rising to stand, slowly began to make her way to the cockpit. She stepped through the threshold, eyes going to the viewport. The sight of Corellia, like a glittering jewel hanging suspended in a velvety sea of blackness, was astounding enough in its' own right.

But it was the VSD Imperator that was her ultimate destination.

She had sent a coded transmission to Admiral Ace, simply telling him to expect her.

Lowering herself to sit in the co-pilot's chair, the Director spoke.

"Signal Imperator."

Hess only gave a nod, the fingers of one gloved hand already moving across the comms console.

"Yes Ma'am."

[Rez Ace]

Aboard the command bridge of the Venator-Star Destroyer Imperator, a respected Captain was swiping through a data pad in front of the observation deck. Men behind him were busy and at work keeping the massive vessel operational, and dealing with intelligence files. The destroyers Lieutenant appeared out of the crowd to address the man.

"Captain Elrick, a shuttle is requesting permission to board. Its a Lambda-class sir."

JJ Elrick turned to face the Lieutenant, with a sudden look of seriousness appearing on his face. He requested the view their clearance code.

"As I thought. And right on time too. Inform the Admiral that the Director of Intelligence is about to board in the upper hanger bay. Get the troops in order as well"

The loyal Lieutenant walked off to the coms to contact the Admiral. Captain Elrick turned back to watch as the massive hangar along the front and top of the Venator open up. He hoped the Rez was prepared to deal with the situation at hand, and the stress of being under surveillance wouldn't help that either. Last he saw him, the Admiral was tampering with some old Phase II clone trooper armor.

[R. S. Esalis]

It was always a different experience, descending into a docking bay rather than ascending up into it. Ingrained habits died hard, but she supposed that that was the way of things. Esalis watched in silence as Hess piloted the shuttle down, landing it whisper-softly on the deck below. And another moment later she rose to stand. There would no doubt be a retinue awaiting her, but there was really only one man that she wished to see. And if that meant suffering through the pomp and circumstance of an official entrance, so be it.

Sometimes she suffered for her position. A caustic attitude, but one that endured in silence.

Her last discussion with Admiral Rez Ace was certainly not heated, nor was it unpleasant. Rather, it was surprisingly enjoyable; and adjective that she rarely to describe anything.

Her booted feet kept a constant time as she descended the shuttle's entry ramp, chilling, blue eyes trained ahead.

[Rez Ace]

Boots rushed on the ground, all headed toward one location. Storm Troopers of several types lined up in very neat orders in the upper deck hangar, as the opening over the very long launch deck opened wide. The Venator differed from a typical Imperial-class destroyer in that it boasted two extra hangars. They share the ventral hangar bay, which was also slightly different as this particular Venator helt a powerful SPHA-T beam in it. But the Venator also had a hangar in the entire front hull of the vessel that reached back all the way to the blast doors on the side, which was the launch bay for large shuttles and landing crafts. It was typically used as a star fighter carrier. With all of it's modifications, it was a vessel that Admiral Ace was extremely proud of, and could combat most ships successfully.

Rez rushed into the hangar just in time to see the Lambda-class shuttle land. He was pleased to see all his troops were already in order, and that everything was operating in great shape as usual. He marched briskly to the front of the glossy white shuttle and stood waiting for his superior. It hadn't been that long since their last conversation, but it had felt like a lifetime since she had been in his presence. Not that the Admiral's presence was anything particularly noticeable, as he was typically pretty quiet, choosing to speak only when necessary.

The shuttle's entry ramp opened quickly and the Director of Intelligence stepped off onto the Destroyer.

"Madame Director, good to see you again." He turned to walk with her past the lines of troops.

[R. S. Esalis]

With her hands firmly set at the small of her back and a single datapad tucked beneath one arm, the Director strode purposefully past the assembled ranks of stormtroopers. Each one was like a bone-white statue, carved and placed just so. It was impressive in its' own right. The man who now walked beside her had no doubt made sure of this, as well as his command staff.

"And you," came the reply as both passed from the hangar into the ship proper.

A moment of silence passed before the spoke once more.

"I trust that Corellia has been treating you well."

There was no wait for an answer before she continued. After all, she was not here for pleasantries. No; the transmissions that her underlings back on Coruscant had been receiving had set her on a decidedly singular path.

"My office back on Imperial Center has been receiving messages from here. All routed through proxy comms and networks that prove more troublesome to navigate than simply coming to deal with things directly."

The datapad was slipped out from beneath her arm, and held up for him to take.

"This was the last one sent."

[Rez Ace]

Rez took the datapad and viewed it intently briefly. It's content seemed somewhat familiar. The doors opened at the command bridge, and Rez handed back the datapad as they walked out of the lift.

"It seems slightly familiar. We haven't had much time to view the intel we have gathered here recently. There has been so much coming in from the agents I've dispatched in this sector, and our coms chatter is constantly active."

Rez walked up to the holo table in the center of the command area and leaned against it. These inefficiencies were very bothersome, and the Admiral had been working very hard to pick up the pace. Due to the overload, they have been forced to move intel on to additional people to view it. He decided to move on to what was important though, as he didn't want to waste the director's valuable time.

"So, is there anything more about this that you know that could enlighten me?"

[R. S. Esalis]

And there was the particularly damning rub.

"All that I know is what you are seeing. The information contained in these transmissions is precise."

Of course, there was always the unspoken.

"I suspect a sympathizer. It could very well be an Alliance ploy, but thus far everything that has been communicated in the past has been given with a very large degree of truthful intent. On both the surface and end result. To that end I am forced to conclude that what we have here is a rogue entity, operating within the structure of Intel, but outside of it all the same."

She did not worry over divulging this sort of information in the open, on the bridge. The Admiral was a trusted entity. The Director kept her eyes locked on his own.

"This next operation will be happening soon, if my chronometer and this last transmission are to be believed."

She stared at him, not breaking their eye contact.

"I want to see this Lone Anooba."

[Nira Portian]

Over half way there. Nira began to slow her lope and realized she had made better time than she thought she would. If she wasn't careful, she'd be caught regardless where the sun was.

Rolling her neck to feel it loosen. She then did some long leg stretching as she walked and moved her arms as well. It wouldn't do her any good to get cramped up from the run once she was in the grass. When she came to the bend that would be her final cover before she dashed for the overlook she had scoped out a couple moons ago, she slowed significantly. If there were vehicles around, she would have to be extra careful.

She moved to the edge of the road then skirted left into the tree line. Once there, she moved to a familiar tree and shimmied up without a second thought. She had cover enough to settle anywhere in its limbs and not be seen, but still have a fairly clear view of the estate less than two miles ahead. Lifting her binocs, she twisted till they came into focus and scanned the area. There was a bit more activity than usual, but no additional cargo or vehicles she could see. With luck, she was still early enough to get on record whatever was about to happen. Leaning back in the foliage, she decided to wait here for the last hour till the sun would begin its setting and she could make a dash for the hillside.

She licked her lips once more and sighed, "Canteen... next time remember your canteen." She laughed as she chided herself and waited for the sun to begin its downward dip to the horizon.

[R. S. Esalis]

It was a small ship that broke the atmosphere. Small and compact, a shuttle that had none of the normal, familiar lines of a lambda shuttle. It banked as it descended below the night's cloudcover, but remained on a carefully plotted course. Its' engines were quiet, a hushed sound that seemed more like a gust of wind than something mechanical.

Ensconced within, the Director and Admiral Ace sat quietly. With them was Jakari Mosaran, one of the many cadre of underlings that Esalis had assigned to the Admiral. A pair of stormtroopers stood in the back of the craft, silent and waiting. Their bone-white armor was tinted red in the light cast all around.

"I think that for now, we should watch," she finally spoke quietly, her eyes focused on the bulkhead across from her seat.

"I'll have Mr. Mosaran deposited on the periphary so that he can make his way as close as possible."

[Rez Ace]

The shuttle made it's decent. Admiral Ace sat quietly, many things on his mind, but the thrill of what they were doing intoxicating him. He spent so much time aboard his command ship that missions like this were so pleasing to him. After all his intense personal training he did with director, he wanted it to be put to use. It was moments like these where it was. He heard the director spoke and instantly drew his attention to her.

"I agree. What exactly is it that Mr. Mosaran will be doing?"

His question was cut off by the opening of the door to the cockpit, and the pilot notifying them of their neared landing. Through the door, a Storm Trooper Marshall Commander could be seen, wearing modified armor that the Admiral had designed, looking similar to that of Clone ARC Trooper armor. Rez had assigned the elite unit to this mission as back up in case anything catastrophic occured. Rez nodded his confirmation of the information, and turned his attention back to the Director, awaiting her response.

[Nira Portian]

The sun was down enough that Nira could stretch and leap down from her tree perch. No one had come unexpectedly. And the shuttle and ship traffic in and out of the city never veered her way. Crouching on the ground to stretch her legs, she was soon ready to begin her jog to her little nest.

Going to her belly and crawling up the last bit of the hill in the hip high grass, she found her perch and settled herself in. “Come on, don't let me down.” She whispered to the compound below her. This far out, they didn't fear being seen from the city. There were tons of plantations, estates, and just groups of homes that gave off glows in the outskirts. The lights they let shine weren't any different when seen from the city rooftops.

Rolling her neck and setting up the rifle on the small makeshift stand she had made of rocks and such from nearby, she glanced through the scope to see what the setup was.

One man sat in a chair by the front door of the main house. He was about ten feet from the road and had clear view in all front areas of the house. There were perimeter men to the left and right, pacing and keeping watch. She counted two more that came out to speak to the man on the porch, then go back inside. And there were three more wandering various paths between the house,shed, barn and storage building. “Eight... well Nira, tonight your shots better count. If they catch wind of you, you can kiss your cushy job goodbye.” She bit back a giggle. “Can't come to work...I was stupid and got killed. Wonder how old man would like it if I haunted him?”

She glanced around once more and then set her sites down the road to see if the cargo was coming yet.

She glanced at the small chrono she had been gifted and smiled. She had made it with just under and hour till the gossiped arrival. Part of her wanted them there, cargo and all... another part of her wished she was wrong. Being right meant a large Alliance ring of incoming manpower. Good, because it gave her a chance to pick them off. Bad for her because it meant the Alliance was growing.

[R. S. Esalis]

Mosaran had been deposited in a field, swaying grass bent to the breeze of the fates. His normal uniform was traded for something much more fluid, and the dark-haired agent knelt for a moment, gaining his bearings. The oculars he wore helped to orient his position and show him where he needed to be. A frown, and Pytre Mosaran slowly rose to crouch, moving forward on a trajectory that would bring him closer to the indicated dropsite.

It was a mission like most, yet not like most. A strange conundrum. But, wasn't that the beauty of it all? Pytre continued on, knowing his role in all of this. He kept his channel open, knowing that a message from either the Admiral or the Director would change the flow of this night's happenings.



***


Safely ensconced in her seat, Esalis let her eyes settle on the Admiral.

"Mr. Mosaran will be our eyes and hands on the ground. If we decide that this 'contact' is worth bringing into our fold, then I wish for him to be there. Whatever this individual is, he or she has given us a decent amount of intel that I've found helpful enough. If it is a trap, then I'll not be entirely surprised. But, if it is genuine, then I'm willing to take the risk."

A strange, foreign smile was given to the Admiral then.

"A part of the game that we play, yes?"

[Rez Ace]

Rez smirked slightly, in agreement with the Director. He had thought over their mission briefly before they left and considered the threats of the mission. He had one of the lowest casualty percentages in the entire Empire and wanted to keep it that way. Rez spoke back very smoothly and controlled, choosing each word with precision as he always did.

"I have prepared several gunships of troops to be deployed rapidly if any threat against us or our men arises. You'll find these troops to be very capable. I've also moved the Imperator within scanning range of this part of the planet. We will be receiving very accurate information of our surroundings at consistent intervals, at the cost of the ship no longer being undetectable."

The Admiral prided himself in his ability to analyze missions and prepare for every possible contingency. He also wanted to look his best for the Director.

[Nira Portian]

It was time.

Nira was shifting for the third time in the last hour when she heard a motor off in the distance. Taking to the scope sight once more, she glanced down the road. "Sith Lords and Ladies!" She cursed as she processed what she saw. Two trucks, one heavier than the other, were coming down the road. "Whatcha gonna do now, little nexu?" She could hear the voice in her head taunting her with doubt. If even one of those trucks was completely laden with men, she wasn't going to survive the night. She could pick off a few, but by the time they found and rushed her, the close quarters would negate the use of the weapon and leave her with a knife. Not good odds in her mind.

Sighing, she looked at the ranch again. There was no real way to keep this from happening. But she had to try. The truck would be to the house in ten minutes. The dark haired 'overwatch' mentally played a strategy game in her head. If she killed this one, this one would raise the alarm. If she killed that one, two would raise the alarm. She wasn't able to figure out how to take out more than three without immediate alarm rising and her cover being blown.

So she took a breath and sighted her first target. The trucks would come up the road from the right. So the left roving perimeter guard was the first to get some heat. She waited till he had wandered as far as he was going to. Just as he was about to turn and head back, Nira fired and the first body went down. She glanced to the door of the house and the man had noticed and was looking to see what had happened. Just as he stood up, Nira bit her lip.

Tasting blood, she made a decision. The man at the door was always there. He had to be leader of some kind. She had the choice of taking out a couple more soldiers, or him.

The air went still. Even the small insects sensed something was amiss. She tilted her head slightly, and exhaled. As she pulled the trigger two things happened...

The older man on the porch fell dead...

And Nira knew she wasn't going home again. "Sorry, Father... thank you for everything." She whispered softly to the wind, hoping it would carry back to him, and sighted along the barrel once more. In a moment all hell would break loose. She figured when it did, she had maybe six shots before she would be overrun. A man stepped from the house, saw his boss laying dead and suddenly was there as well. His cry had alerted those in the house, though, and Nira saw men begin to come running.

Five more shots....

[Nira Portian]

Bump