Agriprop; Imperial Confederation Dominion of Brentaal IV

[Druwor]

​

​

​

​

​

It was supposed to be another calm day at his local air defence station, with him sitting at the scanner with a cup of caff until it was time for lunch. He knew it wouldn't be, his hands shaking as he downed a flask of whiskey before entering the small control room he shared with a colleague. The other didn't even turn to look up as he entered, eyes locked on a display, "Mornin' Rhel, we just gotta make sure that envoy gets where they gotta go, then it's smooth flying for the rest of the shi-" He was quickly silenced when the carbonite-steel edge of a knife scoring across his jugular, a raspy cough filling the room for a few seconds before it returned to silence.

Rhel dropped the now-crimson knife onto the floor with a clang, sitting down at his station and looking over the console. He retrieved a piece of torn cloth from his pocket, unfolding it to gaze upon the faded starbird of the New Republic; his other hand moving to the targeting interface and locking the station onto the Imperial envoy flying overhead, the missile turret pivoting to track the vessel. A grimace crossed over his features as he hovered over the fire controls, pushing down with a renewed vigour.

Half a dozen assault concussion missiles blasted out of their tubes, screaming through the air towards their intended target. Rhel watched as the red blip disappeared from his scanner, replacing the cloth in his pocket and bringing out a smooth metallic sphere, his thumb sliding a switch on the side and filling the room with a shrill beeping.

Objectives:

1. Not-so-Happy Landing - An Imperial diplomatic cruiser was shot down in the atmosphere of Brentaal IV, generating outrage among both the Senate and the Imperial populace. The planetary government insists that a terrorist group known as the 'Children of Carida' hijacked the defence station that participated in this attack. Elements of the military and the ISB are being deployed planetside to investigate the wreckage and get to the bottom of this dastardly plot.
2. Bring Your Own Objective

 

[IC-104]

Chief and his brothers stared at the crash site drolly. They had yet to confirm whether their were survivors or not, but Chief doubted it. He sighed but it was kept into the confines of his helmet. He stared round at the smoking wreckage and wondered just how many Imperial citizens died coming to represent the interest of a benevolent empire for a thankless world. If the people of this planet hadn't wanted to attract Imperial attention they sure had a funny way of showing it. Chief and hundreds of others had come in response to the threat, a prelude of things to come surely and now that they were here they probably wouldn't be leaving for a very long time.

Chief picked over a piece of metal plating which had embedded itself into the ground. He grabbed hold of one side and hoisted it from the planet's crust aided by his armor's strength augments. Even with the boost to strength Chief grunted a little as the metal debris was lifted and spun round to allow for the searching of what lie beneath. Finally as the metal bent at odd angles and the prize beneath was revealed Chief stood panting at the small victory he had achieved over the menial task. He stared at the charred corpse of a Imperial diplomat unamused by the broken manner in which his body rested.

Chief grabbed hold the man's collar and hoisted the upper half of the cadaver up. It righted itself with a sickening crackling of bones and flesh, but Chief scarcely noticed anymore. His thoughts on the dead went as far as Better you than me... and didn't go much further. He had become hardened to some things and while he lay awake in his bed wondering why he couldn't sleep, he had no notion that his years of combat experience might have something to do with it. It simply wasn't in his programming. He searched the body with free hand and finally found something of worth. A small slightly damaged datapad. Chief took hold the object and tucked into his holster belt.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Attire
Location: Foyer of the Grand Oradin Hotel, Oradin, Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None

The lithe figure of a young lady cut across the opulent foyer, the sharp heels of her stilettos struck a staccato cadence against its pristine marble. Dressed in simple ensemble of a velvet bodysuit the shade of the witching hour that slowly tapered to the gentle dawn of lavender and blush down its flared skirt, the blonde looked the part of a highborn. The base of her shoes were reflected on the gleaming surface of ivory and silver, creating an illusion of a puddle of blood with every step she took. Perhaps a prelude of things to come, considering the situation that necessitated her presence on the world.

Marriskcal was not amused.

And it was revealed in her vivid eyes and pursed lips.

Following along at a more discreet distance were a retinue of maids, with the butler of House Du Couteau striding calmly a step behind her even as the blonde continued to seethe. “We have barely even found our way to our suites and they are already leaving me messages to find my way towards the site,” she hissed in a quiet murmur to the elderly gentleman, who only graced her annoyed words with a dip of his head.

“What do they expect me to do there? Stand around and try not to fall asleep from sheer tedium while the investigations are underway? Glare and frown at my unfortunate colleagues in a misplaced hope that it would encourage them to conjure an answer immediately?”

 

[Enedina Tal]

Major General Tariq Hejazi​

Kandaran Imperial Fedayeen paramilitary​

Location: Block perimeter around the crash site.
Objective: Obj 1, securing the perimeter and keeping guard for potential insurgent activity.


Fresh from the Mandalorian frontlines, Tariq and elements of his division were diverted from off duty to attend to developing matters on Brentaal IV, which became increasingly apparent as the hours passed that a terrorist attack had occurred. Not that he was any stranger to this, Kandaras tribal frontier had increasingly devolved to the point where attacks from tribal insurgents had become the norm for embittered Kandaran troops. But whereas many governments resolve would break into negotiating with such terrorists, the Kandaran Fedayeen answered every attack with a brutally effective response.

Brentaal IV was different though, this was a more substantial matter and with Imperial press swarming the place like a swarm of flies. The Fedayeen could not deploy the tactics they used back home. Instead, they would have to secure the perimeter, keep journalists away from the crime scene and help as added security for the area.

His men, veterans of the insurgency wars on Kandara and seven-week war set up multiple checkpoints so no one could get into the crime scene without being checked first for identification. Order needed to be maintained at all costs and if they were to catch the scum criminals, they would have to make moving about Brentaal hard.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Attire
Location: Foyer of the Grand Oradin Hotel, Oradin, Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None

And just as the young lady was about to continue on her tirade, the datapad that she held against her hip chimed for the umpteenth time within the hour. Marriskcal paused at the edge of the foyer, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip in an act of silent displeasure even as she raised the device once more, her eyes skimming through yet another update of inconsequential significance and a politely worded appeal to observe the proceedings at the site.

Truly, the blonde would have been less incensed if they have made a request for her to present herself at the air defence station that had launched the salvo. At least there was a faint hope that she would be able to uncover and shadow the trail left behind by the belligerent element, even if any fool who has even an iota of intelligence would know better than to linger. It would also be another matter if they have made the request for her to attend the emergency session that was being held in Cormond by the representatives of the Brentaal Houses, where she would be able to discern if there was any underlying conspiracy to cause unrest from within.

But no, they decided that her skills would be best utilised at the site. Where there were over a few hundred members of the military, ISB agents, emergency and rescue service workers, reporters, and inquisitive onlookers swarming over the carcass of the cruiser. And well, the remains of the diplomatic envoys.

If yet another me–

Even as Marriskcal was grousing over the latest message… there it was.

Complete with a bright crimson ‘urgent’ label and an exclamation mark.

The young lady took in a deep inhale of air, before slowly releasing it as an exasperated sigh. “We are going to head to the suite and finish settling in. After that, please arrange to have a light meal sent up. I heard that the Grand Oradin is renowned for their high tea?” Perhaps in an hour, her mood would be better improved.

“I will continue to ignore these incessant requests for me to waste my time and effort.”

Not until they uncovered something of worth in their investigations, or when the requests began to sound more judicious.

 

[Adaska Raythe]

Adaska Raythe
Brentaal IV, Crashed Diplomatic Cruiser HMIS Endure

"My Lord, I've boarded the Cruiser, searching for package now. Over." Playing a keypad like a piano the airlock slide open on a painful whine for Adaska, Commissar-General Orlov was no doubt responsible for this, a diplomatic mission staffed by Moderate and Liberal Assemblymen and Senator if that wasn't enough cause to suspect the feeble beanpole as being responsible the grounding of their cruiser was allegedly the responsibility of a Pro-Republic Paramilitary organisation. Sweeping through the three-hundred meter frigate's port-side Adaska passed several ajar doors and peered inside from behind her safe coloured helmet's gold visor. "Rogue-Alpha to Rogue-Leader." Another message sent to Theodore. "Rogue-Alpha reporting massive casualties, I'll leave them for the Imperial search and rescue teams."

Even though the mask and armour concealed her identity Adaska mused on not wanting to be around when Imperial forces arrived on account of still being a wanted woman, fortunately she had obtained a Bounty Hunter license under a fabricated persona. Coming to a pair of pursed closed turbolift doors the woman hefted rifle over right-shoulder onto a mag-lock pad built straight in centre of rear-cuirass the lift itself had cratered at the bottom of shaft forcing the several hundred kilogram power-armoured woman to climb up unceremoniously through its' roof. "Those hatches are always so much tighter in this armour. Though for what Raythe had to compare it too since the powersuit was not much bulkier than the Katarn Battle Armour it was a univeral improvement.

Ascending up the turbolift shaft on a still intact durasteel rope, thought was paid to the fact all the ship's working lights were off leading Adaska to conclude there the crash-landing had caused seriously catastrophic damage either to reactor core or the circuits themselves, neither scenario particularly favoured Human survival. Silently acknowledging that her purpose aboard the Endure de facto amounted to kidnapping didn't exactly engender a sense of easiness from Adaska, it would be very easy for Theodore to convince a prosecutor she was an escaped murderer and thoroughly insane or so she thought.

Even with that said, Adaska could see no choice other than to trust Theodore and his Co-conspirators had her and the Imperial Confederated Systems' best interests at heart.


[member="Theodore Royce-Clarke"], [member="IC-104"]

 

[IC-104]

Chief stared round the crash site boredly. He knew their would be no survivors, his entire squad knew it. It was only a matter of time until he and his boys would be able to do what they had actually come here to do. Avenge. But, until then they would be stuck burying the dead and keeping the carrion feeders from the corpses that had yet to be thrown in grave. It was a boring job, but one that had to be done. But, perhaps it wouldn't be so long before Chief and his squad got to do what they really came for.

As Chief scanned the horizon with DC-17 held at the hip he felt something begin to vibrate against the waste. Chief looked to the disturbance, suprise plain on his face. The datapad still worked and what's more someone was attempting to message it. Chief withdrew the device from his belt and thumbed it open. He began to scroll through what appeared to be strange documents. Something about an invitation for the world to join the Empire. Chief was skimming the documents when the device received another message.

Chief pressed the alert and a wide array of text sprawled across the screen.

Imperial dogs have been warned! Secondary attack is imminent lest you should leave our planet!

Chief smiled at the stupidity of the terrorist. He plugged the pad into his helmet and began to upload the message to Imperial databases, where hopefully they would find the source. Soon the attack dogs would find the scent and be unleashed, woe to those found near the trail.

 

[Hatim al-‘Abbās As-Saffāḥ]

Secretary-general Hatim al-‘Abbās As-Saffāḥ,​

Nizam Al-Mulk party​

Location: Crime scene
Objective: Obj 1, finding out what the hell has gone on and met with comrade Tariq and General Theodore Royce-Clarke.

​

As if we could not see through such blatant deception. What kind of worms orchestrates a bombing like this? If not to only attract the ire of the ever-increasing glare of the Imperial state.

Hatim had read the reports and thrown it aside. Normally he would leave this kind of minor incident to his subordinates in the Fedayeen,but instead, he had commanded his captain to call the banners and prepare to head for Brentaal IV. Hatim had not been present for the later stages of the Mandalorian war, he had been on his way back to the home planet having visited Coruscant along the way to meet with allies in Coruscanti nobility. Had Hatim been present at Kiros, however, he would have fully supported the continuation of the offensive against the Mandalorians. But moderates both back home and in the army called for a stall.

The Mandalorians only believe in strength. With Yasha Cadera and the best part of their leadership gone, there was no one left to regroup the Mandalorians shrinking military assets. One would've thought them to have regrouped behind their wretched allies in the form of the Sith, and yet their all too trusting nature had led them to their doom. Ironic of a once-proud culture to fall so low. Time was a cruel mistress, and empires and ambitions scattered like cosmic dust under its vengeful gaze.

Flanked closely by an entourage of bodyguards, Hatim approached the crash site with an air of distantness and grandeur. Spotting comrade Tariq who was observing a piece of the wreckage.


"So it seems our enemies are also within the walls, tell me, comrade, what of the perpetrators?"

[member="Tariq Hejazi"] [member="Theodore Royce-Clarke"]

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Uniform (Made of Shell Spider Silk), Lightsabre x2 (Azure & Cyan), and Throwing Knives
Location: Penthouse Suite of the Grand Oradin Hotel, Oradin, Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None

It was a little over an hour and after another dozen or so ignored messages that saw the lady of House Du Couteau seated in an antechamber filled with mirrors and a pair of maids attending to her.

The former herald and sword of the Supreme Leader was still and serene as the first of them kneeled before her to lace up the boots that encased her legs. Her gaze remained rapt upon her reflection even as Marriskcal regarded the second of the pair as she placed the finishing touch to the high tail they drawn her hair into, binding the chiffon ribbon into a bow the shape of a butterfly.

When she had first found herself living on the estate, the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and its opulence had her perplexed. And while they still did, the blonde has come to a quiet acquiescence to deem many of the things that provoked some form of contemplation within her as something that was customary and beyond her limited understanding. After all, Seto assured her that all was as it should be and the servants acted as though it was a usual part of their routine, so the naïve creature that Marriskcal sometimes was merely allowed her brother to indulge and spoil her.

So, even though she still felt a keen sense of disquiet of having someone that did not possess the familiar aura of the older male standing at her vulnerable back, the young lady persevered and allowed the maid to brush and style her tresses. And while she may never give the servants of House Du Couteau her complete trust, Marriskcal adored her brother and had utter faith in his judgment when it came to the loyalty of the beings he chose to serve him.

The datapad that she placed beside her was still displaying the message that has been disseminated from device found on the site. Whether the threat was something that was true, or whether it was mere bluster, it was not something that the imperium was willing to risk.

“Lady Marriskcal, the speeder has already arrived and will be waiting for you at the entrance.”

“Thank you. Please inform the chauffeur that I will be down in ten minutes.”

 

[Rasvas Tevlan]

General Rasvas Tevlan; Galactic Marines Commanding Officer

Location: Crime Scene

Objective: Rendezvous W/ Imperial Comrades - Investigate Wreckage

Interacting With: [member="Hatim al-‘Abbās As-Saffāḥ"] | [member="IC-104"] | [member="Adaska Raythe"] | [member="Tariq Hejazi"]

00-1​

​

OFFENSE UPON IMPERIAL TERRITORY; LETHAL COUNTER-MEASURE ACTIVATED...​

​

//​

​

LOCATE TERRORIST(S)​

​

//​

​

ELIMINATE...​

​

Dead eyes gazed upon the wreckage of a downed cruiser; a slight twitch came over the right eye socket of Rasvas as his face remained stoic behind the black of his helmet - the red hue of his visor glaring with indifference, a more true sense of anger brewing somewhere deeper within the scarred mind of the grizzled war veteran. A slow inhalation caused a dull ache within his chest as he stepped closer to better observe the aftermath of what was decidedly an act of vengeance - or a message of hatred.

For whatever the reason might have been, it made no difference, truly. Quiet cloaked the obscured, blackened figure as his HUD gathered information on the individuals present around the crash-site, as well as what could be gathered from the remains of the ship itself.

//​

​

IDENTIFIED - [member="IC-104"] - [member="Hatim al-‘Abbās As-Saffāḥ"] - [member="Tariq Hejazi"] - [member="Adaska Raythe"]​

​

IMPERIAL PERSONNEL ACCOUNTED FOR; NO UNKNOWN/FORGED IDENTIFICATION DETECTED.​

​

// ​

CONTINUE WITH PRIMARY DIRECTIVE.​

​

"If a lock-down hasn't been initiated, now would be the time to do so. No one can leave, no one can enter - this pest must be snuffed out and punished." A cold, monotonous voice crept aloud from the confines of Rasvas' helmet with an almost inhumane distinction wrapping around his words - like a droid, but somehow still not quite uncanny enough to be ambiguous as to whether or not the thing suited in blackened armor was even a person to begin with.

Rasvas was indeed flesh and blood, but tested and calloused. His will was that of a man whom died long, long ago. His thoughts were stuck in the past, gnawed upon by the teeth of regrets and personal demons. His anger knew no bounds, and his resolve unshaken by even the most monstrous of combat scenarios and wars alike. His obscured features made no deviation from the stoicism already present - not that anyone could discern his state of mind anyhow, at least not in this moment.

His composure remained firm - his arms crossed behind his back as he continued to observe among the others. Hopefully they would heed his words, if such measures hadn't already been set in place.

War raged in his soul - that salty, weather beaten dog of a man. His eyes glossed over from a previous night of binging alcohol and spice. Whether Rasvas Tevlan was fit for active duty or not was a big question, yet none questioned it for the time being.

Murder whispered into his ears.

His right eye having yet another brief muscle spasm.

 

[Adaska Raythe]

Adaska Raythe
Brentaal IV, Crashed Diplomatic Cruiser HMIS Endure

The walls and floor thrummed, pulsing in emphatic sympathy to the cruiser's heart which yet still beat. Adaska or "Jain Meen" as she masqueraded came to the vessel's bridge and found what remained of its' crew splayed across the floor and instrument consoles, most were fortunate to be left whole but the crash's violence had been so intense it appeared to Adaska some had been flung so hard their limbs had been rather divergent and decidedly unpredictable in their trajectories.

Hearing a pair of soft steps. "Help" The voice of a man feebly pleaded in a raspy raggedy voice. "Help" It repeated slightly louder than previously, stepping in its' direction briskly she rounded a large rectangle-shaped holotable sitting in the middle of bridge behind the helmsman's chair. Strange, that sort of feature is generally seen exclusively on Warships Adaska thought wordlessly rounding the long display table and found a middle-aged man slumped against it sitting on the floor with a palm covering a wound gored into his chest.

Smiling weakly up towards the tall golemn clad in sage powered armour he did not recognise her explicitly as friend but knew she was far too well armed and armoured to belong to that organisation responsible for blasting his Diplomatic cruiser out of the sky. The giant knelt over his slumped body and tore through his suit with both hands, before going to secure a triangle bandage over his bared hairy sternum. "Hang in there, Sir." Weakly he seized woman's wrist in a loose grip.

"No, listen. Whoever you are." Wrenching a blood-filled couch from his lungs and turning face away so as to not rudely splatter his claret life-fluid on his kind would-be saviour. Adaska acquiesced to the man's request and patiently waited for him to continue. "Go to the gun battery, fourteen bee. The one that shot us down." He sputtered, earning a nod from the quiet Agent Raythe. "The government here would never risk what's coming next." Adaska herself suspected accurately that only the mad or fanatical would dare fire upon a Coruscanti Shuttle. Placing an open palm down on a laceration upon the top of thigh that oozed dark venal blood Ambassador Kaiso to Brentaal IV continued. "A pawn in somebody else's Holochex game..." Adaska mused openly which earned a weary chuckle from Kaiso nodding in agreement, bowing head.

Rising to her feet and regarding the broken and lacerated man for a moment, gently slid him along the ground with gentle care consciously avoiding the displaced deck panels which presented sharp blades up towards those who walked upon its' now warped surface. Kaiso found his final rest against bridge's bulk-head door and Adaska walked back into the command room eye'ing its' single-piece bridge window and produced a plastic explosive charge. Planting it firmly against the surface, ensuring an anchor her hands moved with deft post-human dexterity nominating timer for fifteen seconds.

Half a second second passed and Adaska herself crossed the ten meter length between bridge's viewing window and bulkhead door, taking cover across the Durasteel Isle from Kaiso waiting for her charge's cacophonous detonation. Knowing it would attract attention, her left hand moved down to the stealth field generator mounted onto belt and activated it, light itself bent around Adaska's Powered Infiltration Armour till she was nothing but a formless, featureless silhouette.

[member="Rasvas Tevlan"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Tariq Hejazi"], [member="IC-104"], [member="Druwor"]

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Uniform (Made of Shell Spider Silk), Lightsabre x2 (Azure & Cyan), and Throwing Knives
Location: En route to the compromised Air Defence Station, Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None

Even as the speeder drew away from the Grand Oradin Hotel, the young lady used the journey to assess and affirm her agenda once more.

And to her utter annoyance, despite her ardent wish to avoid the crash site, the itinerary that was displayed on the screen before her specified it as a place of interest. The only consolation to the blonde was that the necessity of her presence there would be at her discretion, pending on whatever thread of information she managed to unravel from the compromised defence station.

Marriskcal leaned back and settled more deeply into the plush leather seat, her gaze flickering to regard the haze of shifting sceneries beyond the airspeeder. The salt flats that laced the edges the Suporro Sea gleamed an incandescent white beneath its sole sun. But its beauty was lost on the commissar, whose meandering thoughts were already following along the trail of reasonable hypothesis.

There were several paths to consider, like whether these Children were merely aiming to harm those who affiliated to the imperium, or were they willing to harm the citizens of Brentaal as well? And where would they find the resources to do so?

With the incident with the diplomatic envoys, shadowed by the ‘warning’ that they had so kindly delivered, the security at other defence stations and military garrisons would be at high alert. Even if there were sympathisers amongst them, it would be twice, if not thrice as difficult to succeed. Thus, there was a high possibility that these beings would have more than a few weapon caches concealed at several locations on the planet itself.

It also meant that the crash site was still at risk, especially if they were seeking to continue this little… conflict of attrition of theirs with the Confederation. Nevertheless, it did not disregard that they may also seek to strike at the governmental centre of Brentaal. After all, if they wanted to send a message to other worlds within the Core, the latter would make for a strong statement of their intent.

 

[IC-104]

Chief waited patiently as the datapad was analysed by the Empire's spooks. It wasn't long till he received the messages origin coordinates. He tapped his foot against ground as his HUD's planetary map was pulled up and a large red dot covered part of a continent.

"Zoom on target," Chief said patiently with arms crossed and DC-17 slung across back

The GPS map enhanced itself as it formed holographic terrain on the inside of Chief's helmet. The sender was close.

"Further enhancement please," Chief stated, a hint of disbelief leaking into his voice.

The digital GPS zoomed in further and Chief stared dumbly at a mirror of his current whereabouts. The terrorist was here!

"Squad, rendezvous at these coordinates!" Chief shouted into his comms and with a flick of his tongue the coordinates were marked on his brother's heads up display's.

"The bastards here!" Rev shouted in alarm

"Find him before he gets away!" Chief ordered "Form a perimeter around the target! Make sure he has no avenue of escape!"

Chief watched as his squad took up separate vectors of approach and slowly began to close in on target location. "You three stay out of sight, but keep the rendezvous point within peripherals. We can't let him know we've found him..."

Chief trotted over wreckage with urgency. Unawares as to who could be trusted and with time being a precious commodity Chief kept the information of the nearby terrorist privy to he and squad. As he neared the location he found himself staring at three Brentaal Imperial sympathizers. Local authorities who had allied with the Imperial cause. They were coalesced around a piece of wreckage talking whilst appearing to move bits of the debris about. Chief approached the trio, but could not deduce which was the terrorist. He didn't want to spook the man, but Chief knew their was no way to do this without approaching them.

"I want him alive," Chief said over closed comms then quietly added "Rev keep sights on the targets,"

"Copy sir,"

Chief moved closer and finally the three noticed the commando stormtrooper. They stopped what they were doing and saluted smartly.

"How goes it lads?" Chief asked in friendly tones, then withdrew the datapad he found on the dead diplomat.

"It's a mess sir, a damn shame wh-" Began one but he was interrupted as his belt began to vibrate. "One moment sir, i've got a call," The terrorist withdrew his datapad and froze as he saw the call. Shock plain on his face he slowly began to look to Chief. He raised his datapad and in a panicked note cried out "This doubles as a bomb!" The two other sympathizer began to take careful steps backwards unsure as to what the hell was happening.

"Take him out,"

Faster than light a laser round from an unseen location flew through the air and struck the terrorist arm, lancing it clean off.

"Argh!" The terrorist cried as he clutched at where his arm was but moments ago. Chief wasted no time and pounced on the man immediately. He grabbed hold the man's vest and punched him in the face. His arm reared back and it took all his will power not to strike the man again. The man's cheek hung loosely on his face from where the phrik gauntlet struck the first time.

"This is unit IC-104, Enigma squad has apprehended a terrorist," Chief spoke over Imperial comm channels.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Uniform (Made of Shell Spider Silk), Lightsabre x2 (Azure & Cyan), and Throwing Knives
Location: Air Defence Station, [Redacted], Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None

Unbeknownst to the young lady, some of the concerns that has wandered across her mind were coming to reality at the crash site.

Marriskcal was greeted by the familiar presence of Corporal Lance as soon as the airspeeder drew to a stop by the dull grey gates of the defence station. As her chauffeur has already been instructed to wait for her, the blonde merely inclined her head in silent gratitude to the droid before she stepped out of the cool interior of the vessel and into the salt and vapour saturated air of Brentaal IV.

“Corporal,” she greeted the dark armoured male in a succinct manner, reminiscent of the time when she was still operating within the now defunct First Order.

“Captain.”

With the egregious lapse in the security of the military base, the imperium has more or less seized the lead when it came to the inquest of this… incident. And it was clear to the blonde that none of the remaining personnel that were detained were joyous about its implication despite their grudging cooperation. The life stream that guided her was suffused by the dark clouds of their displeasure, intermingled by the bright thunderclap of shock that came from betrayal.

Even as the clone escorted her across the boundary, her veneer was impassive and solemn as the other began his report, his voice a low murmur as he spoke of their findings thus far.

 

[Enedina Tal]

Major General Tariq Hejazi​

Kandaran Imperial Fedayeen paramilitary​

Location: Block perimeter around the crash site.
Objective: Obj 1, securing the perimeter and keeping guard for potential insurgent activity, talk to Comrade Hatim and friends.

​

​

After interviewing various witnesses, Tariq returned to the crash site, seemingly looking for another clue that he had not yet found. He eyed the body bags he passed with a small token of sympathy. Gods to die like that. To have their lives wrested away from them in the blink of an eye, a small mercy perhaps that many died in an instant.

There was a commotion amidst the crowds and guard separating them from the site. One of the guards stepped aside and announced let several Imperial officials through, among them secretary-general Hatim and others. Tariq rose up from the debris he was observing and stopped a respectful distance from Hatim. He looked at the group of assembled Kandaran officers and spoke politely.

"I do not know sir, they seemed to have melted into the urban jungle." Tariq had straightened again and was looking at this his superior. His eyes met Hatims fierce eyes and did not waver.

 

[Veena Reshma]

Agent Veena Reshma, ​

Imperial state bureau,​

Location: Oradin, Brentaal IV
Objective: Objective 1.
Interacting with: no one yet.

​

It was a rainy day. It had been drizzling on and off all day, but it had really begun pouring somewhat in the middle of the day. Every drop felt like a sharp razor, sinking into her skin. It wasn't the most agreeable weather to be walking outside, but she didn't mind. She told herself she didn't care. Not long ago, she honestly had not minded being out in similar weather while working in the field.

Still, agent Reshma adjusted her umbrella and wrapped herself in his trench coat as she tried to walk faster.

Why was she out in the rain when she could've been dealing with the case from a nearby ISB locale? She lit up a cigarette and reminisced as she walked.

​

"Good day, agent," Agent Carnelis greeted her. He was a tall, bald man. He looked old but the swiftness with which he descended the stairs told Veena that this man might be old but in no way helpless.

Carnelis smiled at Veena but, truth be told, that smile did not look inviting or friendly at all. "I'm sure you've read up on the briefing." He said tersely.

Veena nodded blankly but she knew better than to let herself be distracted by her personal opinion of the man in front of her. She told herself to get on with this business so that she could bring results back to the higherups.

"Apologies, Mr Carnelis, I'm Agent Reshma of the Teta branch of the ISB. I apologize for not waiting outside, I believe no one heard us ringing the doorbell." Insistently, she thought. "what developments or existing leads do we have?"

"Please, take a seat," the older agent said, walking to the nearest couch.

Veena didn't move.

"I think you're not convinced you should be here," Carnelis chuckled, smiling still but narrowing his eyes, staring the younger redhead down.

Damn, she thought, he won't hesitate to have me fired.

"I am glad that the board sent you. Yes. I'm used to people being intimidated by me, but I can see you are not, and that tells me you'll be honest and successful in this investigation. Am I right?" Carnelis's voice was soft, but, like his smile, it had a cold quality about it.

Agent Reshma felt those words as a veiled threat, and she was suddenly very aware of the tension in her muscles. She sat down willingly across from Carnelis.

"I assure you, Mr Carnelis, that I will do my job."

"Good. Now," he said after a brief pause, "do you really want to know what happening here?".

Do I want to know? Veena had asked herself back then while in transit. Now, hours later, she still wondered if she truly did.

 

[Adaska Raythe]

Adaska Raythe
Brentaal IV, Crimson Wastes, Outside Air Defence Station Nemesis, Nearby Gun Battery 14B.
Nearby: [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

Running across the rocky earth of Brentaal IV's crimson sandy plains, Adaska's cool icy spheres glanced to the speedometer upon helmet-mounted display. Twenty-Meters Per Second or Approximately seventy-two kilometers per hour. It would take just over a minute for the woman to run a whole mile and with the Air Defence Station some twelve to fifteen kilometers away according to the hololithic rune on the aqua-coloured holographic display, she thoroughly liked the colour and appreciated that the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation's Mark/IV TYRFING Powered Infiltration Armour possessed such user customization. Fortunately for Adaska her TYRFING Powered Exoskeleton was outwardly so similar many could be forgiven for identifying it erroneously as the DARKSABRE Mark Nine's "Besh" Variant.

This gave the Rogue Shadow a distinct advantage in that for whatever reason if her cloaking device failed and somebody witnessed her performing something incriminating the initial investigation would be misdirected potentially to a former First Imperial Death Trooper turned mercenary. Minutes passed and Adaska dropped a flat rocky rise over-looking the Air Defence Base's perimeter, visor magnified and she studied its' razorwire-capped chain link fence closely searching for motion sensors. There were motion sensors and closed-circuit surveillance with the chain link itself approximately nine to twelve feet in height. Jump-able

There were several large towers that rose from the base's ferroconcrete floor, topped with missile racks with the towers' alpha-numeric designation painted on their Durasteel sides. A dullish gray airspeeder pulled up before the Station's front gate containing a lone woman. She appeared to be greeted by a Soldier or Stormtrooper Adaska couldn't distinguish the man's branch from apperance since he appeared to be entombed within a suit of Mark Nine Katarn battle Armour. Though his bearing and gait was consistent with the manufactured graceless step of a Clone, Adaska thought they were excellent soldiers but poor investigators or detectives.

The woman whom he was escorting without a doubt stood amongst the ranks of the Imperial Security Bureau, Adaska thought the agency would launch a critical incident investigation immediately and being intimately familiar with the organisation she proudly throught there could be little chance her conclusion is incorrect. Sprinting across the red sand between herself and fenceline her knees coiled down and then sprung, with assistance from her Powered Exoskeleton Adaska's body was sprung high above the ground in an inverted corkscrew her featureless colourless silhouette spiraled elegantly before landing on a knee and her toes. "I'll need to find out what they know."

Comment was whispered quietly within helmet, meanwhile within the station's control room an officer piqued up at the sudden triggering of an outer motion sensor though quietly relaxed when it pinged once, before ceasing into silence. "Must have been a bird." He quietly mused before relaxing into career salaried complacency.

[member="Veena Reshma"], [member="Tariq Hejazi"], [member="IC-104"], [member="Rasvas Tevlan"], [member="Theodore Royce-Clarke"], [member="Druwor"]

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati - Du Couteau,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Equipment: Uniform (Made of Shell Spider Silk), Lightsabre x2 (Azure & Cyan), and Throwing Knives
Location: Air Defence Station, [Redacted], Brentaal IV
Objective: A little bit of column BYOO and column #1
Interacting with: None
In the vicinity: [member="Adaska Raythe"]

“After the perpetrator launched the salvo, he tossed an incendiary device into the control room. From the blast radius and marks, a thermal detonator is our current guess. Since he didn’t bother to cover his tracks, he probably did it to divert attention and made use of the ensuing chaos to leave and acquire more time before his culpability was uncovered–”

The clone paused in his words, a swirl of hesitation threading through his being as he regarded her silently. And as Marriskcal was inclined to do with the section of stormtroopers that were assigned to escort her and provide support while she was on an assignment, she waited patiently for her corporal to continue with his words. While they were reserved, preferring to follow her lead and any orders that they were given, the young lady was slowly influencing them to be more preemptive.

“–From the holorecordings and the keycard access data we’ve obtained to the control room, we’ve managed to narrow it down to a longtime personnel. Archer here has already notified the agents posted at the main base over at Vultiin to investigate and dig deeper into his identity and see if he’s a genuine Brentaalan who found himself taken in by the rampant anti-Imperialist sentiments or if he’s a mole.”

The blonde nodded to the remaining members of the section that was waiting for the both of them as soon as they stepped through the blast doors of the facility, her gracile frame shrouded by their dark armour and more compact build as they made their way towards the cafeteria where the remaining personnel has been gathered and detained until they were cleared.

“Did anyone mention anything of note about the perpetrator?”

“No, Captain Du Couteau,” Knight interjected from over her left shoulder. “Most of the staff I’ve questioned all agreed that this ‘Rhel’ was someone you can depend on. A little meek and unassuming, but pleasant enough a person that he got along with everyone.”

“Mm, they usually are. To borrow an adage from Commissioner General Du Couteau, still waters run deep. If the perpetrator was a sleeper agent, he has all the reasons to stay below notice. But the true question that we still need an answer for is – Why now? And why the diplomatic cruiser carrying the envoy?” Marriskcal paused before the door leading into the hall, her lilt inquiring.

“They may want to discourage other worlds from aligning themselves with the imperium, but they could also bide their time until one of our ministers are sent over to formalise the entry of the Brentaal system into the Confederation. After all, the death of a minister would have more of an impact.”

Unless… these Children of Carida were confident that they would be able to strike true for a second time.

But that was a line of thought that was better left for later. For now, she has a group of personnel to sift through and clear. Even as she gathered herself in preparation for the task ahead, the doors hissed open.

 

[Adamos Kaiser]

Adamos Kaiser, the 'Hero of the Confederation'
Commissariat for State Security & Force-related Affairs

Equipment: Armored Uniform (Phrik-weave, Shell-spider Silk), Lightsabre (Crimson, Lab-created)
Location: Surface, Brentaal IV
Objective: BYYO
Interacting With: None Currently
Situation: Calm

A bombing. All that was needed was detonite truly, a few cases of the easily accessible compound combined with an individual who had an amateur-level in utilizing explosives could blow it to hell. Not even a knowledge of how to arm explosive devices was needed, detonite could simply be fired upon with any simple weapon, thus the minerals would contort from the yield of the device, and then expand outwards in a reaction of fire and flame and a blazen glory of the blackest and brightest of brimstone. A bombing, it was simple and easy to manufacture and it was easy to spin into a lie. Perhaps there had been no detonite, perhaps it had been simply as the media had portrayed it. A terrorist group that had hijacked a missile defense system. Though there were issues with that thread of thinking. Why weren't the defense systems more heavily defended? Why could they so easily be hacked? What was the point of a defense system if it did not have an override if one tried to hijack it's system? So many unending problematic clauses that led to no where save disgruntled questioning.

A man draped in black fabrics had landed with the entourage of the military. The texturing was fine and precise, hexagonal bumps dotted themselves all across the luxurious fabrics that clung close to the male's figure. One could easily mistake the man for some politician who dressed too extravagantly for bureaucracy and the business of politics. Or they could have been assumed to be some public figure, bringing light to the recent attack to help others. He certainly did not dress for a combat zone, a combat zone which could be a very real possibility given the circumstances surrounding the destruction of an Imperial diplomatic cruiser. Yet he was a fighter, a combatant, a Commissariat.

 

[Rasvas Tevlan]

General Rasvas Tevlan; Galactic Marines Commanding Officer

Location: En route to IC-104

Objective: Assess & Destroy

Interacting With: [member="IC-104"] | [member="Adaska Raythe"] | [member="Hatim al-‘Abbās As-Saffāḥ"] | [member="Tariq Hejazi"]

00-2​

​

// INCOMING CALL //​

​

<>​

​

"This is unit IC-104, Engima squad has apprehended a terrorist."​

​

<>​

​

"Affirmative IC-104, This is General Tevlan, en route to your coordinates. Keep your eyes peeled."​

​

// CALL ENDED //​

​

Armored footfalls clicked against duracrete, Rasvas' sinister visage moving with purpose and dedication - a man broken by time and conflict, a watcher of the beyond and subservient pawn to the whims of the greater unknown presented by the black of the galaxy thus far. From beneath an equally midnight-stained cape, Rasvas produced an E-21/07 with some slight personal modifications: a holographic sight, along with a laser mounted to the side of the blaster. Pushing the butt of the rifle against his right shoulder, the General readied himself for whatever he might stumble across.

The fluctuating murmur and unintelligible conversation of concerned citizens resounded at the peripherals of the darkly clad operative. Small wisps of smoke and miniature tendrils of dying flame mingled among the wreckage, Rasvas' boots kicked up debris as he meticulously scanned his surroundings. There was no telling whom was watching, and Rasvas wanted them to at least witness the resolve and awareness demonstrated by himself. None would escape the fury of the Marine - none would best him out of surprise.

// LIFEFORMS DETECTED! FALSE CREDENTIALS IDENTIFIED - PURSUE ANOMALY //​

​

00234-9I​

​

ERROR! UNABLE TO FIND MATCH IN DATABASE​

​

// LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED //​

​

"Multiple potential hostiles identified - engaging. Be advised, suspects could be bearing false credentials."​

​

Rasvas' brought the holographic sight up to the optics of his helmet as he took careful aim at the silhouettes among the smoke and unsettled dust wafting through the air. He stopped in his tracks, finger slowly squeezing the trigger as a quick succession of three concussive blasts unleashed from the barrel of the blaster. The silhouettes convulsed as their bodies were ripped apart - gaping wounds exposed through sunlight piercing through the debris cloud as they fell hard to the pavement.

"Targets neutralized. Continuing towards your position, IC-104."​

​

Advancing upon the corpses of the suspects, Rasvas noticed they were armed with standard E-11 blasters, yet the bodies were dressed as civilians - a scuffed datapad displaying a secured chat with an unknown party within the grasp of stiff, dead fingers. A continuous string of messages flooded in, Rasvas observed with a greatly piqued curiosity. Confiscating the datapad, the General continued onward. He wasn't far from his comrades.

He didn't question them or give them a chance - was he fit for this anymore?

Rasvas had tasted death again - tasted it and enjoyed it like the burn of a cigarra.

He didn't feel, didn't have a heart like a normal human being.

What was he anymore?