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[ATTN: TSE] Crouching Shadow, Hidden Rebel. (Recon. Mission of Dubrillion)

// Bastion, Dubrillion //
// Public Transit Area //
"Never taking bloody commercial shuttles cross-system again."
Cigarette smoke twirled and danced, the hushed rush of air expelled from cracked lips as another drag was taken. "We give... we take..." Ras grumbled to himself, still rolling around the idea of the Rebel Alliance in his mind. It was work, and after some initial skepticism, he humored the thought of even liking it. But the ties that bind were certainly, deeply embedded into Ras' very being.
The First Order.
All the discipline and motive, all the drive for the soul to flourish and grow was earned there. Without it, he wouldn't amount to much - more than likely he'd be dead. Still a hollow feeling gnawed at his insides like a buzzard over carrion. Each day a new reason had to be found to reassure himself that this life was still worth something. That these people meant anything. A cheerful voice chimed in over an automated PA system, listing departure times and incoming arrivals.
But that didn't matter right now. Feelings didn't mean anything here, only progress. There was a mission to be completed.
Dressed down in darker colors while keeping a casual enough appearance, Ras flicked his cigarette to the side. His right hand pushing his medium-length hair back, as to look somewhat typical. Giving a look over his shoulder, he observed his surroundings, almost as if he were looking for someone in particular. The chatter of citizens generated an abrasive white noise, conversations roaring over one another in sudden spikes of volume.
Irritating enough to say the least. Still idle, Ras kept his composure, reaching into his black leather jacket for another smoke.
Only a sigh escaped the ex Imperial amidst the cacophony of socialites and civilization. Lighting the cigarette and taking a slow, long drag.
"They should be here soon.."
The clock was ticking.

Beltamo Zeal

UTC Dealer
This was a long way from the nomadic fleets of his Domain, he ware a specialized suite of armor that was part Vong Bio-Tech, and part Metallic. This concealed his species nature and allowed him to continue to travel the streets of the Sith Empire and not be pulled aside to be executed in the streets. His species that served the One Sith years ago had caused a lot of pain to those who stood in their path. He however, did not care for these lower life forms, he was here to assist and repay a debt to a ally who requested it.

Walking the streets to the meeting place of this alliance of rebels. The one they called Cedric had sent him here to assist with whatever he could, with an assortment of Vong Tech at his disposal, anything these creatures needed would be given to use.

He walked up behind the description that the leader of the Rebels had given him, the one they called [member="Ras Val'kor"] was the life form he was to meet with. Though the outline of the mission was not provided, he cared very little. There was nothing that stood in the way of him repaying that debt and being free of the Mandalorian.

"You, Human," Zeir stood behind the man, "Apologies for the wait, never been on this planet before and a map was not provided."

Delsin Kessler

Active Member
His hands got warm in his pockets, as he walked towards the rendevouz location. Dubrillion was a strange place, but entering with a fake identity was a problem, everyone would be register in the system, with face and ID. He knew that there was a way for him to pass without getting noted. When the ship he was in passed the atmosphere, a door to the outside opened, without giving the others passenger a way for them to know "Thanks Reyes" "You owe me one" The pilot was a friend that pilot civilian ships from planet to planet and was a friend of his father. Good to have contacts.

The ship passed through a cloud and Solon leap away, using the four second skin droids not to fly but to glide into a safe place. The landing was difficult, but no one notice him, nor check the weapons he was bringing with him. After hidding them in an abandoned house in the outskirt of Bastion, he walked through the city, being guarded by Sith soldiers, the feeling wasnt that oppresive. But Solon knew, that any signs of a rebellion would be quickly banish from existant.

"Sorry for the waiting. Had to walk part of the way" the presence of an unknown one was a little disturbing as he wasnt in the mission itself, but he wouldnt complain. They needed all the help they could get

[member='Ras Val'kor'] [member='Zeir Atona']

Ari Vox

I thought this was America, huh?!
Lost amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy Dubrillion hub was Ari, her blonde hair tied back and hidden beneath an older looking beanie. Garbed in fashion she'd bought second-hand on the planet, she looked almost exactly like the others around her, the silhouette of her form just a little more powerful, a little less bent by the exacting toll one suffers beneath the iron fist of The Sith Empire. She'd brought no weapons, it was a reconnaissance mission after all, and her papers all checked out for the time being. She'd been here a week just preparing, placed with deep cover as a private security consultant.

The contact was elusive, a shadow in a world of ghosts and Ari felt out of place wadding through such murky waters. Her place was on the battlefield, leading men and woman from the frontlines, a vanguard crusader made for smashing through defences and seizing the initiative. Here she was less serviceable, but still, her years as a bounty hunter had fine-tuned her tradecraft and the actual process of working undercover. It took time and patience but with an abundance of both she made her mark just prior to their scheduled meeting time, observed him from a distance in the reflection of a nearby window and maintained her visual.

From the mass of foot traffic came two figures, one a fairly normal looking human male and the other a massive and heavily armoured silhouette that set Ari on edge. No information had been disseminated by the ones who had planned the mission, nothing outside of the planet and a scheduled meeting time. Feeling it was her time to make her appearance the subtle looking Mandalorian peeled herself from the window and made a round-about route to the three figures she'd kept tabs on. Shortly thereafter she approached from their flank and brandished a small packet of cigarettes.

"Anyone care for a smoke?" She asked, her eyes taking in the odd-looking trio before scanning around them, faces and bodies melding into the background as life beat on and on. "Are we expecting anyone else?" A cigarette fit to her lips she snapped a small flame and lit the end with practised ease. It had been an addiction she'd kicked once, no reason not to utilize it.

[member="Solonariwan Tofusin"] [member="Zeir Atona"] [member="Ras Val'kor"]
Commercial flights were never her thing really, sadly in this case they were absolutely necessary. They needed to get in without being suspected, private flights got more security checks than even commercial flights, not to mention the added conspicuous nature of private flights. That was not something they could afford this day.

As far as the authorities were concerned Lyra was Beatrice Dunson, mild mannered business associate at a major accounting firm, the others would have their own fake identities planted within the Sith's expansive intelligence and tracking system. Fake ID's, birth dates, parents, everything had to be fabricated with an extreme degree of consistency to avoid setting off any alarms bells, and as far as she could tell from the lack of chatter on the line from their arrival, it had worked well enough.

The group of "business associates" seems to have gathered well enough. Her flight was delayed so she was a tad bit late. Otherwise it appeared almost everyone was here. Lyra was unarmed for now, her weapons were hidden outside the spaceport in a dumpster out behind a liquor store about 15 minutes away by foot. She did not intend to have to use them, but it was good to be safe, just in case.

The faces blurred together but Lyra saw a bit more than many, she noted anybody who might be an undercover security agent, you could tell by the way the acted, they watched people in a certain way, followed certain patterns. To the untrained eye they might as well be normal people, not to Lyra.

"I think this is about everyone, we should probably get going, we don't want to leave the boss with a cold lunch do we?" She said, making sure to avoid actually discussing their purpose.

[member="Ari Vox"] [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"] [member="Zeir Atona"] [member="Ras Val'kor"]


A Loveable Lowlife
"Testing, testing, can anyone hear me? This is the Dusty Sparrow to Ground Team, do you copy?"

This message had now repeated for the thirteenth time since the mission began, being broadcasted to whoever was listening on the designated frequency. Jorge was getting worried that he had already messed this job up. He hadn't been there earlier when the group was being briefed and he assumed the group didn't know to contact him for the evacuation.

Even though his presence wasn't exactly known, he and the Sparrow were in fact there. The ship was sitting cloaked in the outer atmosphere of Bastion waiting for any single of life from his clients down on the planet.

Jorge was only hoping for the next few rounds of broadcasts to finally reach someone.

[member="Lyra Sarn"] | [member="Ari Vox"] | [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"] | [member="Zeir Atona"] | [member="Ras Val'kor"]
[member="Jorge"] | [member="Lyra Sarn"] | [member="Ari Vox"] | [member="Solonariwan Tofusin"] | [member="Zeir Atona"]
Beginning to grow only a tad lonely from the wait, and almost out of smokes, multiple individuals began to converge on his position, all sharing the same kind of look in their eyes. This was the team set to carry out their mission - no, the mission. During his loss of self among the vast crowd of denizens, his mind wandered into a territory previously unfamiliar to him. A shock of culture for sure, but a realization of self. He would help these people and not fade into nothingness like he could've.
They didn't deserve betrayal. He could have had them all killed on the spot right now if he called out to security personnel. But that wasn't the just thing to do.
Was it?
After everything he had learned up until this moment, why did it feel wrong to think about betraying these no-named faces? Was it his still somewhat intact pride? A shriveled, putrid thing that still slowly pulsated with some kind of cursed will to live.
Ras let out a sigh, masking the mix of emotions he just felt. Flicking yet another cigarette to the side where a small, yet scattered pile had accumulated. "Good to see you lot. Remember, casual only. No formalities in a bar crawl." Suddenly a voice chimed in over the PA system, listing the arrivals and departures once again. "This is our ride." Automated train doors sliding themselves open as Ras boarded the car itself, grabbing onto a nearby poll. He looked to his right, peering into the train cars up ahead as a multitude of alien and human life mingled. A thing the First Order frowned upon, spat upon. Something else to pry from his chest like a dead weight.
He was not the First Order.
He would uphold his integrity as a man, and nothing more to make this as easy as possible. That he could do. For a moment, a brief but sharp pain stuck in his heart. Ras clenched his teeth firmly, but managed to keep his composure as the discomfort passed. His condition was worsening, which was yet another factor to tie in. He didn't have much longer in this existence, he knew that.
So now is the time to make it right.
A final time would the PA voice the departure for the group's train to the capital. "Come on." He said with a sly wink and a half grin. For a moment, though, he could have sworn he felt something vibrate within the confines of his jacket. "Hm?" Ras eached into his left pocket, fingering a small transceiver that was to be hidden upon his person. "Ah, dammit." He cursed to himself, looking around as casually as possible. Ras acted like he was scratching his ear, inserting the device.
"Testing, testing, can anyone hear me? This is the Dusty Sparrow to Ground Team, do you copy?"
This very predicament was an error on Ras' part. Mainly for not making sure he was properly equipped, or speaking to the pilot for them to be able to leave. Speaking now would draw attention, none of which the group needed right now. Ras would have to suck it up for now and wait until a better opportunity presented itself. If this went off without a hitch, that is.

Delsin Kessler

Active Member
The voice speaking in the line was an issue. Who could be Dusty Sparrow? Maybe someone Solon didnt heard about before entering, but he couldnt do anything. They couldnt respond as their disguise would be discovered "Speaking alone would be an issue..." thought while maintaining the appearance, and follow the same direction of Ras, shewing a gum and still with his hands in his pockets. He grabbed of a poll and looked at Ras, his body trembling for a single moment, although it could be the train engine moving the entire train. A lot of citizens entered the train, but he wouldnt define it as crowded. All they need was a distraction, loud but not alarming enough for anyone to call for a patrol.

His droids would call too much attention, maybe a fight or something small for them to contact with the Pilot

[member='Zeir Atona'] [member='Ari Vox'] [member='Lyra Sarn'] [member='Jorge'] [member='Ras Val'kor']