A Shadow of Doubt [FO]

[Madelyn Lowe]

A Shadow Of Doubt​

72 hours before Operation Nightfall​

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[x]​

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In the last few weeks, Cloud City, Bespin had become a huge parade ground. After the defense of the planet against the invading Galactic Alliance, the Empire Day celebrations after the cleanup were extensive, and extravagant. For weeks there had been a wave of immigration. Merchants peddling their wares, fortune tellers, performers, pop-up restaurants, fairs, and carnivals, as well as a huge influx of military personnel both on, and off duty. It was a melting pot of different groups, and it provided the perfect cover for a small team of First Order operatives to arrange a meeting.

Each member of the team could travel to Bespin with ease, each of them had the proper papers, and their was no need to conceal their identities, not yet. For Cryptolinguistics Officer Emilia Ravel, it was as simple as flashing her papers to a weary stormtrooper at the spaceport, who limply waved her through. She frowned at the lax security, but she wasn't here to bark orders at anyone. It was a short speeder ride to the location of the meeting, and when they pulled up at the small, plain office building the meeting would be held in. Two FOSB Special Agents checked her identification, then let her inside. She was the first to arrive, but not by much. One by one, the team began to shuffle in, taking their seats around the large oval table in the centre of the room. Emilia took in a deep breath, and held it, willing her heartbeat to slow, for her hands to steady, for her haggard face to not betray the exhaustion, and the nerves. It was shaping up to be a long day.

The plan was fairly simple, until you really started to think about it, Infiltrate the Theed Palace on Naboo, and wire it, to perform surveillance on Naboo dignitaries, and particularly the Queen herself. A simple goal, nothing overtly dangerous about it, until you consider the context. The Theed Palace was a heavily defended fortress, it'd be no easier to infiltrate than a fully fledged military base, and it had its own defence force, on top the the Theed police. But that was the least of their problems, the main issue was that Naboo sat right in GA space, and if the mission went wrong, it could unravel the delicate peace between the GA, and the FO. It was a high stakes operation, to say the least.

Emilia cleared her throat. "Okay..." She paused, wincing at the way her voice cracked, betraying her calm face. Her cheeks turned rosy, but she continued. "As all of you know, our target it the Theed Palace on Naboo, and more specifically, Jamie Pyne." She turned and wrote down the name on the board next to her. "The Palace, and the Queen's bunks, are heavily protected, if we're going to have any hope of bugging it without incident, we'll need to cooperate, and play this smart." She paused, thinking. "Before I go on with the specifics of the security, all of you need to know something." Emilia pointed to the door. "When you walked through that threshold, you left your rank outside. We are a team, and we will behave like one." She hoped she said that confidently enough that they'd take her seriously.

"Now, security. We're expecting four different levels of protection for Theed, and the Palace. Level one is electronic. Due to the Queen's affiliation with the GA, most of Theed, and definitely the Palace, will be wired up with the latest tech to spot us, hear us, and catch us. We'll need to find a way around that. Level two is local police. I believe if we move quickly, we can probably avoid much of a response from the RSF. Level 3 is where things get hairy, the Theed Tactical Peace Officer Unit (TPCU) are tough cookies. We're expecting at least one Knight level force user in each squad, and a total fighting force of 50+ members. Finally we have level 4, the Queen's personal bodyguards. I don't have much intel on them, but I expect they'll be extremely dangerous, and we'll avoid them if possible." Emilia turned her head, looking around the table slowly.

"Right, let's start at level 1, any ideas?"

[member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="DT-317"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"]​

​

This thread is open to all FO members.​

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

"Level one isn't my specialty," Dresden replied.

Which was true. You didn't spend as much time around precision explosives without learning your way around a circuit board, but he'd never been much for dealing with electronic security.

"I'd normally advise creating some sort of distraction that'll keep the folks monitoring the bugs busy, but that's not exactly low key. All I can really suggest is don't look like someone that the security folks would pay attention to. Maybe try to steal some janitor's uniforms or something. No one pays any attention to the help."

It wasn't the best suggestion in the world, but, like he said, that wasn't his specialty.

The former merc was not quite as tired as their host looked, but he'd had a pretty grueling last few weeks himself. He'd helped himself to a cup of something that probably resembled coffee if you had never tasted the real stuff before, and heavily fortified it with something pungent, brown, and bad for his liver. He wasn't usually one to drink on the job, but he'd been up for over two days, and at this point, caring was for other people. The current facility had a strict no smoking policy, so his ubiquitous cigarette was replaced by a cigar, unlit, screwed into the corner of his lips. He might not be able to light it, but Dresden figured he'd at least get enough nicotine to stay awake through the meeting.

[member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[The Major]

"They would have security protocols in place for distractions. No doubt they will have a brilliant, paranoid expert in place. Much like yourself, Mr. V." The one now called the Major had taken to affectionately referring to Dresden by this nickname. He had yet to protest during their brief interactions -though that may not extend endlessly. A smirk crept upon Sybil's face, and she folded her hands in front of her chin.

"Senors can easily be manipulated by the right tools. Let me use my expertise in remote slicing and Force illusions to circumvent their tech screens and negate any advantage they might provide. However, if trained force users are in the vicinity any interruptions could be sensed. Do we have any methods of damping their senses?"

Her glasses traced a slow turn across the room, looking to see if anyone else present would step up with suggestions that relied on subtlety -rather than brute force.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

Still way too rich in minutes that remained until the briefing started, a certain blonde watched the orange-coloured sky overhead while her relaxed figure leaned against a railing. White clouds disapproved of the puff of smoke that escaped through her nostrils and rushed towards heavens before vanishing, but the cigarra in her hand would not be followed by another. She had a meeting to attend and it’d do no good if she reeked like Alderaan that just had a date with a moon-sized battle station. One last inhale, rolling it in her mouth before letting go, and the Ren’s petite fingers finally dropped the cigarra on the pavement. The distinctive tabac scent remained for a bit longer, even though Zmej was long gone, steadily on her way to the office building destined to get the team together and discuss the game plan.

Wearing a standard uniform of Ren, the Supreme Leader’s Hand approached a FOSB duo. Whether they recognized the knight’s apparel or not, the yellow eyes provided a dead giveaway. Yet, true to protocols, the young woman’s identification had found its way into her palm. Waving it under their noses was enough to let her pass uninterrupted and so she disappeared within what appeared an ordinary structure, yet was about to host most honoured guests. Once she and everyone else comfortably sat in their seats and the somewhat nervous officer went over the basic premise, Zmej put her elbows on the table and leaned against it. Sulphur yellow eyes glared at the board, as if trying to burn it through the sheer power of concentration. Suddenly, the blonde turned her attention towards the red-haired officer.

“Before we start discussing level one, I’d like to know more about the operation’s purpose. What do we hope to gain? Is there something specific we’re looking for?” The knight of Ren questioned, eyes inquisitively studying the officer and most likely testing her will.

They risked re-igniting the conflict. As much as Zmej Ren desired to charge into battle once more, she wasn’t about to drag the First Order into a war because of some queen on the other end of Alliance space.

“What makes her important?” Zmej pointed her index finger at the board with Pyne’s name on it, “If we want dirt on the ruler, why not just bribe a servant? Less risky than sending a large team. Plus, we have to assume they do bug sweeps.”

She frowned.

“Tell me, officer. Are you ready to take responsibility if this operation fails?”



[member="The Major"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia paled, her face became a picture of terror. For several seconds she gazed wide-eyed at [member="Zmej Ren"], whose yellow eyes seemed to cut into the very core of her being, in her mind's eye she saw the woman standing over her, laughing as she ran her through with a lightsaber. She sputtered, struggling for words. "I-I'm-" She paused, looking down at the floor. Finally she looked up, her face slackened, and she looked the Knight of Ren directly in the eyes. "This mission is my responsibility, I will take the full consequences of its results." Emilia adjusted her uniform, wiping off a speck of lint. "Let me explain why the Queen is the target." Emilia turned to her board, neatly writing the names of several Galactic Alliance officials, and military leaders. One by one, Emilia struck a line through each name. "This one is currently aboard a frigate in a GA task force. And this one is deep inside a facility on Sullust. In short, Jamie Pyne, is the only person that we have even a remote chance of properly surveying." Emilia nodded, finding the words, and beginning again slowly. "Until recently, we wouldn't have had a chance to get close to Naboo, let alone the palace. But, the armistice gives us a chance to gain the upper hand in the case that conflict erupts again. If we don't take this chance, we may not have another opportunity for years. Jamie Pyne is something of a celebrity among the Galactic Alliance, and it is my understanding that she is frequently in contact with both civilian and military officials in the GA. If they were planning a major offensive, she'd likely know about it. By bugging the palace, we could know about an invasion before even most of the Galactic Alliance itself."

"Now, I understand your concern about sending a team in, but unfortunately, we are unable to send in operatives to work as double agents in the palace. The Queen is nowhere near trusting enough to let any outsiders into official positions. What's more, there are no staff members we'd be able to pay off who have access to the areas we're looking to get into, such as the briefing rooms and the Queen's quarters. Bugging the kitchen is all well and good, but its not useful to us." Emilia sighed, leaning back in her chair and massaging her temples. "It's not ideal, I know. There is a chance of failure, and if we are to fail, we risk the safety of the worlds under the First Order. That is why we'll take any and all precautions to ensure we are not traced back to the Order. You will all be issued with new documentation, new clothes, and new equipment. As for our lightsaber wielding team members, you'll have to use standard blasters, unless we're in a real emergency. Furthermore, those who will be recognizable by GA operatives, such as Ms Zmej Ren, will need to wear a suitable disguise." Emilia looked down at her notes. "If we are caught, the First Order will deny any involvement in the operation. When we're questioned, we'll say we're thieves, who were planning on sneaking in and looting the Theed Palace. If you do not think you can stand up to GA interrogation, and likely life rotting in a cell, each team member will be issued a lullaby pill, to be taken in the event of your capture."

She looked back the the Knight of Ren. "Does that satisfly your question?

Varas Kyrelhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/6892-varas-kyrel/ | DT-317 | Zmej Ren | The Major | Dresden Verbrennung |​

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

"If I might make a suggestion?"

Dresden stood, stretching. He had one hell of a kink in his spine, and the crappy chair wasn't helping.

"Not trying to step on your toes here. This is your aardvark to kark, and we're just holding the legs. But in my experience, thieves rarely have the discipline to bring along L-pills, much less use them. Extremists, on the other hand..."

There was an audible pop as something in his back cracked. The lanky human sighed with relief, then sat back down.

"For the most part, the Naboo are a pretty easygoing bunch. They get nasty if you poke 'em with a big enough stick, and some of their military tech is top notch, but for the most part, they're all about some peace and love and all that jazz. That said, every society has its scum, and their scum takes the form of a small, mostly ignored anti-Gungan movement. The average citizen couldn't give less of a kark about what those crackpots think, but they're out there.

"Now, from our perspective, that's plenty useful. There's nothing more annoying than a bigot who's being ignored, 'cause he's just gonna talk louder and louder until someone shuts him down so he can cry about censorship. A couple of groups have been stirring up trouble ever since that one Gungan, forget the name, blew up some hostages with a tank a while back. With the help of our slicer friend-" he gestured towards [member="The Major"] "-it shouldn't be too hard to plant some breadcrumbs leading back to a 'cell' of anti-Gungan extremists who decided to take their game to the next level.

"In reality, most of these guys don't know their ass from a hole in the ground, but that doesn't mean they can't​ get their osik together, just that they haven't so far. If things go kinetic, well, we take on the role of a new, violent cell. We don't wanna make it too easy, 'cause that would make their investigators all kinds of suspicious, but a few well placed clues on our person ought to lead them in the direction we want them to go. It's a win-win for us. Even if they find the bugs, we can distract the hell out of them with a wild goose chase. Hell, some of the actual extremists might decide to use us as a rallying cry and stir up even more trouble."

[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia nodded curtly. brushing a stray lock of hair from her face before continuing. As she spoke softly her hand moved across her battered leather-bound pad, neatly noting down each point that was made. The soft scratching of her pen was barely audible beneath the lilt of her subtle Corellian accent. "So its settled then. We'll enter the palace disguised as janitorial staff, so as not to be stopped outright by the guards. [member="The Major"] will handle the electronic security measures. No force illusions though, we can't risk the TCPU agents catching on. Once we're inside, we'll split off and wire the place up. I've designed the bugs so they can't be detected remotely, but they'll still have to be well hidden. After the meeting rooms, we'll attempt to access Jamie Pyne's quarters, and set up bugs there too. We have our cover story sorted; A group of disgruntled anti-Gungan extremists. That should be enough to keep the GA operatives off the Order's tail in the event that any of us are captured. If something does go incredibly wrong, I'll sanction the use of blasters, but only against hostile targets. If we can initiate a fire, or small explosion in the palace, that should be enough of a diversion to buy us time to extract, even if things are going badly." Emilia paused, working through the plan, until she found the next hurdle. "My main concern from that point is the TCPU. If they catch on to our presence in the palace, things will go bad, quickly. If an agent is caught, I doubt they'd be able to hold their own against a group of trained fighters and force users. I'm not sure how we're going to deal with them, should we just accept them as a calculated risk and proceed with the op as is? I don't know."

As the group ruminated on her question, Emilia reached into her satchel, pulling out a series of charts. With her left hand, she traced over the map of Theed, memorizing the twists and turns of the district. With her right hand, she opened her holopad, deftly typing a few commands and opening a series of high-definition pictures of the palace and the surrounding streets. Not taking her eyes off the chart, Emilia resumed her briefing. "I'll leave you with that question for a moment. I want to talk about transport." Emilia sighed, her foot was beginning to fall asleep. "I've organized a shuttle to use for the operation. It's fairly unassuming, so it wont attract any attention. The shuttle itself is unarmed, but I've made sure it'll have all of the necessary small arms for the mission." Emilia looked around the table, her eyes settling on [member="The Major"]. "I've also had the shuttle outfitted with electronic equipment needed for our resident slicer to do her work, and before you ask, Station Chief, we have a crate of explosives, just for you. As for extraction after the mission, the shuttle should be fine if the operation works out without a hitch, if we're spotted, we'll split up, each heading into a different district of the city. After a 12 hour wait, we'll regroup at a rendezvous point marked here." Emilia held up a map, with a black circle marked a few klicks North of the city.

"Alright, back to the TCPU, have we got any ideas?" Emilia slumped back in her chair, her pen poised over her notepad. She was so tired she could almost cry, but she listened attentively. This was serious business, and anyone who thought she'd drift off daydreaming obviously didn't know her. This mission was her responsibility, and she wasn't going to let everyone down. Nevertheless, her shoulders were slumped forward, and her head had dipped slightly towards her chest, as if she could barely keep it up. In the large, uncomfortable office chair the young Cryptolinguistics Officer looked weak, small, and truly exhausted.

[member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Dass Tallav"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="DT-317"] | ​

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

"Well, you don't take on Force users by being nice. And certainly not with blasters."

As he spoke, Dresden rose and walked over to the caf machine in the corner. He placed a styrofoam cup under the spout, and hit the button. The machine made a whirring noise, and the muddy brown liquid started to dispense.

"If this was your average op, we could get away with kid gloves, but it ain't. Too much going on, and there aren't enough of us to let us play nice. If things go hot, the only way we're gonna walk out of this thing is by fighting dirty."

Once the cup was full, he dumped in way more sugar than was actually necessary, stirred in enough creamer to match, and handed the cup to the clearly exhausted cryptolinguist. He didn't know if that's how she normally took her caf, but the shot of stimulants and calories should perk her up for the next hour or so, at least.

"We're gonna have to think like extremists. Which means, unfortunately, terror tactics. If it drops in the pot, don't let yourself get caught up in a firefight. I can make up some demo charges that'll collapse corridors and open holes in floors. Set up directional mines in choke points, try and lead any pursuit through them. If someone shows up with a glowstick, we're gonna have to get creative. My first thought is gas. We can whip up some nasty stuff with household chemicals, and that's something any good little terrorist would be able to pull off. For obvious reasons, we'll try not to pump crowded areas with the stuff, but we should be able to use it to seal off corridors and make pursuit think twice.

"If necessary, we'll have to leave someone behind to play rearguard. That's a last resort, obviously, because it is a suicide mission. Our best CQB fighter-" which will probably be me,​ he thought, but didn't say aloud "-leads the pursuit off while everyone else pops smoke. One guy can create a whole lot of havoc, and that should let the rest of the team make it out. It's not pretty, but..."

Dresden shrugged. He knew how he sounded, and that any normal, sane person would be horrified by his suggestion. Unfortunately, this wasn't a business where they could afford to be civil.

"As an absolute last resort, we do have our own Force user." He turned to [member="Zmej Ren"] and inclined his head respectfully. "Don't mean any offense, but how do you feel about getting in touch with your inner Sith? I don't pretend to know much about you guys, but as I understand it, the Ren are a completely different cup of tea. Great for the First Order, mind, but not so much for our mission. Think you could pull off a convincing Sith? Maybe we can point the GA towards the Sith Empire or something. It's not at all out of the question for them to want to hurt the GA, and Sith are widely thought to be insane. In my experience they're more calculating than people like to give them credit for, but if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, investigators are going to reluctantly accept the possibility that they're dealing with a small aquatic species of fowl that eats worms and has some really messed up naughty bits. It would absolutely make sense for an arrogant, overconfident Sith to stir up trouble by fomenting unrest. If it comes to that, we're already gonna have a body left behind to point them towards extremists. If you wave around a red lightsaber and start hollering about Dark Side and maybe blast some emo music, that should reinforce their thinking. And of course, the Sith Empire is gonna deny it and get all pissy with the GA, which works out even better for us in the long run."

[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

The bespectacled woman seemed to divert a galaxy's worth of attention upon [member="Emilia Ravel"] and the rampant amounts of frustration waving up and down her body. Certain clues gave away that the officer was barely keeping her composure, or feigning a presentation of what could be described as chagrin. Sybil might give Dresden a run for his money on the paranoid detection meter. She entertained the notion that this operation could possibly be setting up these FOSB agents for failure. Perhaps it was a power play, or maybe her alligance was aligned with this so called important queen. Maybe the Major was seeing shadows where there were none, but something seemed... off. In her mind, she could definetly see how this red headed officer, who maintained an constant air of drowning, might be scheming to clear out any competing agents. The Ren, what was her chosen name? [member="Zmej Ren"], was on to something.

"We are taking about lethality when wiretapping the room of a celebrity? My fellows, perhaps we are thinking too aggressively. Bluntly going about this will be little more than a trap for anyone we send. Also, Officer Ravel, I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with undertaking an intrusion personally, when it's clear there is far more to lose than gain. A regular agent with remote guidance should suffice. Unless of course there will be a brave Ren there willing ensure my protection."

[member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

The red-haired officer’s feel tasted quite delicious through the Force, adding to the dark side disciple’s power. Part of Zmej wanted to completely break the woman, turn the cowering weakling into a strong asset by forcing her to kill the fear within and emerge stronger. This wasn’t the time and place to force her to face her demons though. Listening to the explanation, Zmej leaned back in her seat, making herself comfortable, slight smirk gracing her pale expression. The eyes burning with the dark side’s fires never left the speaking woman’s form. The Ren still did not approve of the idea – there simply were almost no benefits to gain from such risky venture. It was the notion of claiming a different identity that set Zmej’s plotting gears into motions, forming a plan vastly different from the original sketch, yet undoubtedly carrying far greater rewards.

Upon being addressed, the blonde head turned towards the soldier. Yes, Sith – her grin gained in size, becoming that of a predator watching helpless prey trying to escape its clutches.

“Playing Sith is trivial. I have done it many times,” Sieger Ren’s agent admitted with a nod and continued, “The Alliance won’t be able to tell the difference and I’ll claim the identity of a Sith apprentice I have met in the past.”

Just a few adjustments to her apparel and grabbing a lightsaber that lacked cross-guards. Nothing to trace her activities back to the First Order, practically becoming Sith for this very occasion.

The young Ren sat straight, silently addressing each member with her piercing glare before speaking up.

“I have an alternate proposition. The radical anti-Gungan movement backed and rallied by the Sith Empire will assassinate the poor queen. People of Naboo and all admirers of this ‘celebrity’ will demand Sith blood, forcing the Alliance into multiplying their preparations for war against the Sith Empire and accelerating the process. That way, we’ll keep our backstabbing neighbours busy with our Jedi enemies and if we're lucky, kill two problems with one hit.”


[member="The Major"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

With a murmured "thanks," Emilia gratefully recieved the cup of caf. It was a bit sweet, but the warmth of the drink filled her body, bringing her from the precipice of total exhaustion. She sat quietly as [member="The Major"] explained her concerns. She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out [member="Zmej Ren"] smiled, and spoke in a commanding tone, to Emilia, she seemed like a circling shark. A predator closing in on its prey. As the Ren continued, a growing sense of dread filled Emilia's gut. When she finished, Emilia's eyes flitted around the room, trying desperately to gauge the mood. Finally she settled back on [member="Zmej Ren"], gazing as confidently as she could into the burning coals of her eyes. She set her jaw, it was an act of will, but she tried to maintain an air of confidence when addressing the intimidating woman.

"It... can be done." The words tumbled out of her like vomit. Foul, and evil. "The plan won't have to change too much, instead of breaking into her quarters to bug them, we'll kill Jamie Pyne in her sleep. Of course the added risk is tremendous, we'd have a one-on-one confrontation with at least one of the Queen's bodyguards, possibly TCPU forces. But, it can be done." This wasn't what she signed up for, but good soldiers followed orders, so she did her best to drive the treasonous thoughts from her mind, focusing on the headache this new task caused. "Getting clearance for this sort of thing is so far above my pay grade, I don't even know where to begin." Emilia gestured to [member="Zmej Ren"]. "I assume you can make the arrangements with command to alter our primary objective?" Emilia turned back to [member="The Major"]. "With the risks of this mission, I don't expect you to operate with us for the mission. You'll be performing your tasks remotely from the shuttle. It's a risk-free role compared to what the Station Chief and I will be facing."

Emilia took a deep drink from her caf, and got to work writing. She noted down the details needed for an assassination, creating a shortlist of people she needed to call to arrange weapons, and tech. She paused for a moment, and grabbed a red marker. Slowly she walked over to the board. Where the name "Jamie Pyne" was written boldly. Emilia raised the pen, neatly striking a red line through the name.

"Jamie Pyne"

[member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

Dresden didn't quite ask if the Ren chick was high, but if he rolled his eyes any harder, his retinas were going to detach.

"Far be it from me to be the voice of reason, but aren't we getting a little far afield of the actual objective here? If you want the woman dead, there's far simpler ways to do it than burning a friggin Station Chief and one of our best crypto-techs. Because if we go in there and try to kill the broad, that's exactly what's gonna happen."

He glared at the No Smoking sign for a moment, then dropped the cigar, took out a cigarette, and lit it up. He was tired, and frustrated, and none of this was helping. The former merc's accent was starting to come through heavily. ​If ya wont tha wo-man dayud. ​He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, counted to ten, then to twenty, then spelled out f-r-i-e-n-d-l-y f-i-r-e, and when that didn't work, c-o-u-r-t m-a-r-t-i-a-l. Confident at last that he could speak without shouting, Dresden opened his eyes and continued.

"All this talk about killin' and disguises, that's just contingency planning. What to do when things go wrong. If you want to make a go at the woman, that's a different sort of plan altogether. Hell, gimme a week and a budget and I'll truck bomb the palace or something. No need for y'all to set foot in the place. Miss Ren, I mean no disrespect, but this ain't our show. Miss Ravel got the authorization to bug the palace, and she brought us here to do that."

Dresden was well aware that standing up to a Ren was a dangerous thing to do. Though their position in the chain of command was hazy at best, most folks tended to let them have their way because, well, it was easier than dying. Death didn't scare Dresden much. He'd walked the borderline between life and death so many times, he reckoned he ought to have a punch card or something. Ten near death experiences gets you a free commemorative coffee mug or something. He'd feel awful sorry for the other folks in the room if the Ren woman was off her meds, because just about every one of his pockets had something in it that would react poorly to being zapped by Force lightning or being sliced by a lightsaber. And if she tried to strangle his ass, well, there was the deadman's switch. They'd be scraping bloody chunks off the walls for days.

But someone had to at least try to talk some sense. The fact that it was him doing the talking was a fresh turn of events. Normally it was someone trying to talk him down for planning on Otherspace incursions interrupting the op or some crap like that.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Zmej Ren"] [member="The Major"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

He was- late. On purpose, this time. As Dresden pointed out not too long ago, spooks like him arrived when they were needed. He hovered near the doorway, and listened as the Ren spat out a left-field plan to terminate the Queen of Naboo. Not that Lancer had anything against the good Queen but...he found her approach to be sloppy. Child-like in it's bloodlust. But then again, she looked about as old as a college kid. Probably pumped up full of hate and patriotism. Dangerous combination. Dangerous woman.

He took a seat near Dresden.

He lit a cigarette, a disgusting habit for a somewhat deplorable man. He leaned back in the chair, listening to them drabble on about the finer details. He didn't like Jedi. He didn't like Sith. He especially didn't like the Ren, which were in the hierarchy of the Order, but never clear as to where they lay within it. The First Order could do well without the Ren, and be fine without them, truthfully. But Lancer wasn't here to debate the Order's politics. He was here for a paycheck. And the First Order paid handsomely. Conquered worlds and taxes, he supposed.

Lancer tapped his fingers on the table, resting his chin in his hands. He was listening, and waiting. He spoke after Dresden spoke.

"If you all really wanted her dead, all it would take is a speeder and a large contingent of explosives strapped to said speeder, followed by about a dozen people we could pay to kill her. At least, that would be-"He waved his hand. As good as he was as an assassin, he didn't like needless death and causing problems."Moot point. You also have to make sure you intercept as many electronic and digital communications as possible- although the FOSB can do that from the outside, planting a device on the inside will do better in terms of deniability.."He took his cigarette out, running a hand through his hair. He placed it back into his mouth, speaking with it clenched between his teeth.

"My suggestion is to plant a device that can collect data in one of their servers, but not broadcast it back to the First Order. You can always have some off-load the data, without using an external network that the Alliance would be aware of, or dead drop it back to you all."

Lancer pulled back in the chair, dropping some ash into the tray on the table.

"As far as someone actually to do it, the answer is obvious. It should be me."



[member="Dresden Verbrennung"] [member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="The Major"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia arched her eyebrows when [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] spoke. She'd never seen someone speak in such a way to a Knight of Ren, let alone one as high-profile and zealous as [member="Zmej Ren"]. It was bold, and stupid. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't impressed by the man's bravery. As Dresden continued, she turned her eyes back to her page, writing dot point notes on two separate columns. When [member="Lancer Damar"] entered the stuffy office, almost comically late, she waved him in. Handing him a dossier outlining the mission objective that she'd written during the briefing. When Lancer had said his piece she cleared her throat. These two were bold to stand up to the Ren, but they had no diplomacy, things could spiral out of control if left unchecked.

"The way I see it, we have two options." Emilia glanced down at her notes, clenching her fist under the table to reassure herself. "The plan to kill the Queen is both daring, and effective. An infiltration into the palace may well undermine the public's confidence in the Naboo government and sew chaos. However..." Emilia glanced nervously at the Ren. "It is far too risky to attempt. While it is possible, the chances of us escaping with no casualties are low. If we were to succeed in our objective at all, it would be with severe losses." Another quick glance at her notes. "The original plan has a much higher chance of success, but a lesser reward. It may be months before we get any useful information from the bugs, and it may not be the classified military secrets we're looking for." Summoning all her confidence, Emilia stared into the eyes of [member="Zmej Ren"], unflinching, then looked up and down at the faces around the table. "I propose a compromise. The primary objective shall remain the same, bug the palace, leave undetected without anyone being the wiser. In the event that something does go wrong, say that an agent is captured or killed. We'll change to the secondary objective, and attempt to locate and kill Jamie Pyne, along with any other Naboo officials at the palace." Emilia drained her cup, and sat back, the cheap office chair squeaking in protest. "Does anyone have any issues with that plan?"

| [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="The Major"] | ​

 

[The Major]

The Major nodded in agreement to Emilia's recommendation, impressed with her self-managed skills, although foresight warned that [member="Zmej Ren"] would produce another outburst. The officer was quickly learning that all the members of the Ren displayed a remarkable dedication to selfishness. Ultimately it could be described to be useful.

As she aimed her glasses over to [member="Lancer Damar"] they briefly flashed in a sparkling blue, before she asked him, "Do you have a proprietary network to use as a dead drop, or shall I provide you with one. Your suggestion to have a third party info dump is invaluable -provided it's discardable in the case of mission failure."

"Mr. V," she said with growing smile as she now aimed her gaze at [member="Dresden Verbrennung"], "How do you feel about the use of heartbeat sensors during this op?"

[member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

“I’ll inform our superiors.” Zmej replied to the officer with a nod, finally granting her a break as the two yellow orbs shifted over the remaining operatives and she listened to their opinions and ideas. Some were worth considering, others less so, but the Ren’s interest remained piqued at all times. First of all, she addressed the concerns regarding Pyne’s death.

“The action needs to be bold enough to elicit an armed response, a military response. Once we ignite a conflict between Sith and the Alliance, we’ll be offered enough breathing room to ready ourselves for the upcoming war with whoever challenges the First Order’s might first. As the last five or six Sith empires show us, Sith lack any sort of tact. Each action they take is a declaration of their willingness to destroy, a message they want the whole galaxy to hear. We will take advantage of their infamous lust for publicity.” She explained.

Others weren’t so excited – given this would be a suicide mission, an understandable response to be had. Zmej slumped back into her seat, eyes mercifully closed and sparing others the burning flame of the dark side.

“Pyne’s death is preferable, but not entirely necessary, true– as long as the Alliance believes Sith are to blame for whatever happens at the palace. In that essence, I agree with the compromise.”


[member="The Major"] [member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Lancer Damar"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

"The spy game isn't really your thing, is it?" He stared at the Ren, passively. Like an insect. [member="Zmej Ren"] was a bloodthirsty mongrel with dreams of grandeur in a situation that required a bit of finesse. If she was a hammer, Lancer and the FOSB were scalpel- precision over destruction.

"Look, lady- I appreciate you wanting to fullscale murder your opponent. But right now, I don't think without an obvious trail back to you all, you could hit Pyne and get away with it. Things would come back to you in the end. And the Sith wouldn't be to blame, and the Alliance would just revamp the war efforts on-"He made a finger gun on the Ren, and made a shooting sound.

"You all, and your little vacation is ruined. And the Alliance can still break the First Order's winning streak."

Lancer leaned back in the chair.

"Besides? You think the Sith leave calling cards? 'Darth Doucheface was here, I killed the Queen of Naboo, come fight me' with a note?" He frowned at the Major as well.

"I'm hired out of Hutt Space for my exceptional clandestine operational skills, and assassination expertise. As such, I have no networks I can trust with this tier of operations without compromise. Best to keep everything in-house." He tapped his fingers on the table. Practiced, agile fingers that had sliced many throats.

"This is for information gathering. Not assassination. What we can gain here will be greater than what we can lose if we end up failing to try and kill the blonde."

[member="Zmej Ren"] l [member="The Major"] l [member="Emilia Ravel"] l [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]​

 

[The Major]

A frown stretched across the Major's face. Now the people in this room were starting to argue in circles, and if this was allowed to continue by the briefing officer then this surely would be a long evening. She could see it now: where each party took jabs at each other -slowly spiraling up a tower of mental superiority. How riveting. It was pointless for her to contribute to this competing echo chamber, so she made the decision to remain quiet. There was no advantage in jousting here when each person had such different objectives, and she now wondered if it would behoove [member="Emilia Ravel"] to simply cut off this meeting, involve none of these people, and find more subservient troops or assassins and go for the long burn. Isn't that what the vast resources of the First Order enabled? No matter. It wasn't her reputation on the line.

". . ."

This black clad officer decides to stand from her chair and move over to the side of the room inhabited by [member="Zmej Ren"], leaning against a wall one a few feet away from the Ren, possibly indicating that her support was sided to the aggression focused Ren. After all, her philosophy tended to favor the opinions of those who had a firm understanding of the Force. In her mind, the FOSB would ideally work in tandem with the Ren.

[member="Lancer Damar"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Emilia sighed wearily, the bickering had continued, despite her best efforts. She was too tired for diplomacy now, and sick of bringing a bunch of arguing children into line. When she spoke, it was full of frustration. "Enough!" she said, glaring across the table. There as silence, all eyes on her. She rubbed her temples, trying to maintain the frustration, the anger that coursed through her, because the only other option was to curl into a ball and give up. Finally, she looked up again. She looked like a wreck, overtired and drained. She knew it, everyone else knew it, but she powered through.

"We have agreed on a plan, there is no need to sit here and hurl insults anymore. Each of you has your tasks, you know what we're up against, and you have the resources to deal with it. Just so we're clear, I'll go over the individual roles. [member="The Major"] will be supporting us from the shuttle, removing electronic defenses. [member="Lancer Damar"], [member="Zmej Ren"], and [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] will assist me in bugging the palace. There will likely be other agents accompanying us, but their roles will be assigned closer to the mission's start."

Emilia passed out a few copies of the new mission plan, for the agents to read over. "Our next meeting point is the spaceport here at Bespin. Arrive at 0500 tomorrow." She paused, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, before addressing the room. "You are dismissed, agents."

Without a further word, she strode out the door. Taking a series of quick turns. After a short walk she came upon the dingy hotel that she'd be staying in for the night. She walked in, locked the door behind her, and collapsed, fully dressed, onto the bed. She almost cried with relief.

OOC: See you in the mission