Breakout: Hoth (OPEN)

[Ak'lya]

Denon
2400 hours

The captain ran. He heard the speeders behind him, but he still ran. If he could avoid them, he could get back to Coruscant. Tell the One Sith where they took his master. Loyal to the last. Strask liked that in subordinates. No doubt [member="Darth Banshee"] felt the same way. The man would run for a while longer before the ramp on the Bothan's ship lowered, allowing the captain to run up it after a moment's hesitation.

After a quick fight with the pursuit, the Sicarius-Class began to lift of, breaking atmosphere and reaching the edge of space as the captain revealed the location of the Sith Lord in exchange for arrival to Coruscant. The bothan wasn't looking forward to Hoth. A dismal place, really. But he would manage.

Sighing, he would begin to punch in the hyperspace coordinates. He had a job to do.

[member="Ayden Cater"]

 

[Serah Oricion]

[member="Spectre"]

Yusan was back to check on the woman, this [member="Darth Banshee"], whose Cell he now stood in and looked at her. This time though, all signs of insanity had vanished, and he seemed calm and collected now, like the Yusan of old. "Hello miss, ive come to accept your offer. All that i need is some basic information and proof that you reside here." He was sitting no more than a yard from her, his hands on his lap and his eyes focused on her as he looked at her. He had not said any apology though, not as of yet.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Sir?" Came the mechanized voice of his subordinate, the newly forged powered armor still taking some getting used to. Sarge's black eyes shifted, resting upon the shorter but nearly as armored frame of Sergeant Hastings. They were both standing in the security room of the prison on Hoth, a knowing grin plastered on Sarge's tired face. "We do nothing."

There came a pause. "...sir?" Yusan was sitting there, somehow, inexplicably, in the prison, staring at their Sith friend.

"We do nothing."

Puzzlement was etched in the cant of Hastings' head, but Sarge merely grinned and set his helmet into place, optics alighting as the seal hissed closed. "I don't follow."

"No, you don't. We all do."

It had begun.

[member="Ayden Cater"]

 

[Darth Banshee]

She sat in prison cell, looking at the man who beat her and bloodied her. I can't help you, you would need to contact my friend [member="Darth Veles"]. Tell him I said hello, he may be able to help you in exchange. She held her arms around her stomach, she remembered where he liked to hit most. She did not trust this man, and no doubt he was being watched. Though if he got word out, she new her family would come and get her. That`s what the republic and the omega protectorate did not understand, the one sith saw each other as brother and sister not rivals.

Spoiler

[member="Spectre"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ayden Cater"]

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Ayden"] Cate [member="Spectre"]
Hoth
Omega Protectorate Maximum Security Complex
Armory
Noah sighed as he cleaned his R-2 Assault Rifle, he had been here for the past two days, having special 'interrogation' with Sabrina. In retrospect, it was probably not such a good idea for many many reasons, but it had gained him the information he had needed. Did Noah care about her? Not in the slightest, she was a means to an end.

 

[Serah Oricion]

[member="Darth Banshee"]

"How can i be sure that they would trade her banshee, hmm? Ive realized something that you probably hold no weight on the issue, the Sith had not come to save you and you are yet here... I want proof that she will be traded for if i give up you to the Sith, and until i get that you will not be traded... i do apologize though for our last meeting, my mind was shattered then."

 

[Darth Banshee]

"Well Memoria you can't, but he will do what he can for you. As I am sure he want to see me safe and sound, and he would be willing to help I am sure. If it help`s he has friends in the sliver jedi order, I am sure you trust them more than us." She wonder if she say name of his friends there, but she desperate to get free. As she was sure they move again soon. To keep intelligence old, making the rescue harder to do.

Spoiler

[member="Spectre"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Noah Corek"][member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Reverance]

The star viper broke from the grip of atmospheric descent, pulling hard and yanking away from the crushing plummet to stabilize. The defenses were nearly void on the planet, no true protective system or bulwark to speak of. That was fine by Gabriel, he wasn't the most capable pilot in the universe and depended heavily upon the auto-pilot systems built into the custom craft. Nevertheless, the machine was made for attacking and evading and was old, just like him. He laid the craft down several klicks out, working in a manner to develop a rapport with the clandestine nature of his plunge and landing. He would be tactical for now, though things would get messy soon enough.

As he stepped out of the craft, clenching hard in preparation of the biting wind, he pulled the white overcoat together to conceal the weapons about him. Two sabers, a scatter gun, a sith dagger, and a deadly Sith Lanvarok mounted upon wrist. In combination with his physical prowess and battle armor, on top of his control of the force, he would be a formidable foe for any looking to distract him from the mission at hand: the rescue of [member="Darth Banshee"]. His feet brought him to purpose as he began walking, activating a remote that caused the Star Viper to ascend and adopt a sensor mask. Gabriel had entered the coordinates of the location of Darth Banshee, thus giving the Star Viper appropriate location to arrive should the beacon be activated. It would be activated, one way or another.

As he entered the terrain of Hoth, sliding down a slippery hill into a small valley on his approach, he wrapped the force around him, concealing his presence and warping the light about him to disrupt view. In this weather, it would be tough to see him either way, but the added force power of concealment, that came as second nature, would give him the benefit beyond doubt.

The mind drifted as the Sith Lord walked; to another time on this planet, long ago. Blood steaming and spraying, clashing harshly with the white tone of the snow drifts. It was hot and so cold all at the same time. It was a mission, from the Feral Lord, to obtain an artifact withheld by the Jedi Order. There was a tattoo there, now, where the slug holes used to be. He could even remember the feel of the bacta patch as he continued on his way to the prison, looking to spring unknown comrade from unneeded imprisonment.

 

[Darth Veles]

The lights that suddenly filled the cockpit informed the Mon Calamari that the ship was about to leave hyperspace. The blue tunnel on the other side of the window disappeared and Veles could enjoy the icy planet of Hoth in all its beauty. Unfortunately, he was not there to enjoy the view, but to save his best friend and former student; Sabrina, also known as [member="Darth Banshee"] by some. The woman's been captured by the Protectorate forces in a battle Veles has not been a part of, which resulted in a sense of guilt for not being there to protect his dear friend. For many nights he wondered if the female Sith Master still lived. Knowing the Protectorate's methods though, death would have been more merciful than endless hours of humiliation and torture Lady Banshee undoubtedly had to go through.

Darth Banshee still lived though, he could feel it in the Force. Since the Protectorate never took any prisoners, even killing civilians just to satiate their endless bloodlust, they obviously wanted to torture as much info out of her as possible. The fact she was still alive spoke highly of the young woman's will and Veles felt pride for having trained the young brown-haired girl when she was just an Acolyte. Maybe she was even stronger than him... he would have never allowed those filthy dogs to capture him. It was even more unfortunate that Darth Banshee was known to be a very kind and noble woman with strong morals and principles, building orphanages to help poor little victims of this devastating war by giving them education and roof above their heads, making the blow Veles suffered upon hearing of her capture much more devastating. Such a good woman did not deserve to suffer like this.

To ease her pain once she was rescued, Veled had not only prepared the medbay in the ship, but also baked a plate full of cookies. That, plus his favorite tea awaited Lady Banshee once she returned to her loving family. For now, the ship remained in the orbit, waiting for the signal.

 

[Darth Banshee]

As she sat opposite memorial, waiting for his reply. She heard alarms go off, then security began running around. She knew this due to heavy foot noises they made. Something was happening, have her brothers and sisters finally found her. She smiled in delight, if they had she soon be free. The garrison from she could figure out was only small. Then she realized they just summarily execute her, before could reach her. She had no way knowing if they would do this.

Spoiler

[member="Spectre"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Noah Corek"][member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Reverance"]

 

[Ak'lya]

The desolate planet of Hoth wasn't exactly where he had been hoping to spend his weekend. Still, as the stealth ship slipped into orbit, he couldn't help but smile. What a world to be held on. Infiltration here would be tricky, especially if the guards were alerted. Best to let them be lax.

Unfortunately, as he set down, it seemed like that was untrue. Unlike the apparent others on this mission, he didn't think he could take on a high-security prison, much less one in protectorate space. And unlike some people in the galaxy, [member="Darth Banshee"] was not one he was willing to trade his life for. Sure, she may be a valuable ally, and a useful friend, but if she was killed, he would hardly bat an eye. He had seen, and known, more personal deaths. If they were still alive....

No. Focus on the mission. He had to get there, and he could hear alarms ringing from here. "Come, then." He said, letting a small bird fly off his shoulder. Closing his eyes, he let the creature show him what it saw. The wall. Two guards, on high alert. Neither looking to the sky. Not yet. Slowly, he opened them again. The thing would perch somewhere and keep being an extra set of eyes. No doubt that it would be seen eventually, especially if the guard changes. Which would probably happen soon enough.

The problem with this style was that it required patience. Something he wished he didn't need to rely on in these barren wastes. Wrapping the trenchcoat tighter around his armorweave, he waited, shutting his eyes again. The creature was still watching the guards.
[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Noah Corek"]

 

[Reverance]

The sun formed a pale orb of yellow and streaks of golden orange stripes across the frost bitten sky, clashing strikingly against the overtones of white and azure that filled the air. The delineation between land and sky was harsh and well discerned, mounds of electric ice and powdered snow cast shadows from the hills that they rested upon. Howling and echoing winds turned gnawing coldness into something that bit and chomped, something that penetrated deep into the bones. Where the snow and hoarfrost was blasted away by adiabatic winds, lifted high by shifts in pressure and rapid ascent, steel colored stone and scree was revealed below, only to be overtaken by slush descending into it's rightful place. The revelation was something akin to historical awakenings, the tops of volcanoes long dead revealed but for a moment, a quickening to remind of the activities that once passed. Footprints formed in the snow, when the atmosphere was arid enough to allow it, were quickly overcome by snowdrifts, like moving dunes along the coast. The world was dead and desolate and alive and moving. It was breathing and attempting to spit out all those who dared to endure it, Gabriel among the select few and elite.

He had walked, focusing his energy on dispersing his heat through his body, and continued to gather his thoughts. Thankfully, for him, the melting and freezing shift on Hoth caused by the mid day high often afforded sure footing. Walking on ice was easier than walking in the snow, feet made all the heavier by wet boots and worn spirits. And each step that brought him closer to the prison, brought him closer to the sounds. The scuff of boots of guards on the wall, the sound of alarms, the taste of anxiety, the smell of fear. The emotions bolstered the psyche within, feeding and siphoning energy in the body, sustaining it through entropy. As he fell to the ground, crawling up a hill, he pulled the binoculars from hand and looked on to the prison.

Not much was revealed to him. Two guards walking about the complex, empty towers, a closed door half covered by snow. It was enough to know that they suspected an incoming assault, Gabriel thought, with the sounds of alarms. After all, the Sith were not ones to let resources go so quickly. He wrapped the force around him once more and cloaked himself, taking on a running approach as he moved between the snow dunes and meandering frozen streams formed in the melt. Before he knew it, the large man had found his way around the complex towards the back, hunkering against the wall to guide him around the large installation. There was a door and he gave it a tug, but it didn't respond. But more importantly, he sensed a presence behind it, a moving figure approaching. | Even guards have to take breaks.|

He backed away from the door, considering pulling the dagger from the sheath. As the door opened, a uniformed man walked out and lit a cigarra while keeping the door open. No other noises followed, the guard was alone, or so Gabriel thought. Gabriel leaned forward and placed his hand on the opened door, dropping the concealment. Before the guard could scream or call for help, Gabriel placed his foot down between the door and frame. One hand on the mouth, another on the back of the head, and the crack and silence that followed. Like a doll, he lifted the man up and carried him inside, entering the utility room and dropping the being into a quiet slump. He searched the man for identification, pulling the necessary pertinence from a filled pocket along with a map. It wasn't a guard, but instead a custodian. Nevertheless, his existence was meager and in need of ending. Nothing deserved, nothing earned. Everything gained.

Gabriel sat quietly and studied the map, he would need to learn it. As it he did, he found a map of the utilities running through the prison. He contemplated quietly as he waited to see if an opening would reveal itself.

Spoiler

[member="Spectre"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Noah Corek"][member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Darth Banshee"]

 

[Reverance]

Hands met with metal, rung after rung, boot following quickly behind. The yellow ladder didn't move, didn't ache against his weight, as he pulled himself up into the large utility floor that separated the innards of the prison from the roofing and outside world. It was required in this sort of temperature, insulation abundant and placed through the large walking space that resembled the same floor plan below, just emptier. The metal ladder met with elongated scaffolding that hovered from metal cords above the roofing tiling just above the primary floor of the prison. Where the scaffolding didn't go, pink and white fluff filled the empty spots and pushed the heat back into the facility. The texture was grated and metal, cold and rough, and was done precisely in that manner to prevent any worker from slipping and falling through insulation onto the tile and into the floor below. Electrical cords ran across suspended corridors above, for power and communication, and were charged with a constant current. Even the slightest problem with the electrical wiring and the entire metal tray above could become a weapon, something he had seen done before.

Plumbing piping extended out from the insulation, covered in round solid black pieces of insulate, and followed the path to each office, cell, public fountain, food preparation area, and restroom. Of course, this was only particularly useful in the locations where the overhang ran over the offices. Where the prison cells were, and where the target was held, was likely cinder block on all four walls and the roof and floor. Nevertheless, this would allow for him to move through the facility unmolested by guards. Along with that, the spots where the electrical wiring and utilities ran into these prison cells were the areas he would target as structurally weak, identifying points of potential fractures with Shatterpoint.

He traveled the course of the facility in this manner, using the obtained map as his guide. He had continually sent information back to the star viper, including the general map of the facility. Where the cells were, that was likely where he would need to be picked up, and as such the vehicle had taken a round about course through small hills and crags, and would come when called. The data was, of course, encrypted and would resemble the white noise that often accompanied communication arrays. He would either have to fight his way out of this or he would be dragging land mines on his way out. Either way, he navigated to the prison cell section, stepping on egg shells to keep from rattling the scaffolding. As he reached it, he mentally patted himself on the back, having guessed right on the cinder construction that was likely hidden within by either dry wall or thin stone, perhaps cement. He reached out with the force, looking for [member="Darth Banshee"]. He found nothing. For now, he would bide his time until some sort of clue was given towards her position, inspecting the outer wall of the building for any sort of architectural issues that could later be used to his advantage.

 

[Ayden Cater]

OOC: The Protectorate's base on Hoth is actually pretty well maintained. And Banshee is in a ysalamir bubble. She can't hear you and you can't feel her.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[CT-2600]

CT-2600 had decided to help in gaurding this prison he had nothing better to do as he simply stood walking in the hall alarms blared he ran for abit the clone ran to the walls to see if anything was wrong he looked around seeing nothing he decided to keep watch over the place until he was sure it was safe there he knew that there was a sith here and he refused to let anyone retrieve that sith

 

[Cale Gunderson]

Hoth Surface one kilometer from Omega Protectorate Base
Strike Team Able
Waiting...

Not everyone would be bursting in like [member="Reverance"], nor would they be sitting in orbit like [member="Darth Veles"]. Cale was leading a platoon sized strike time of One Sith assault troopers to secure an evacuation point, in addition the being able to provide covering fire for whoever was getting extracted. In contrast to his normal attire, a white robe covered the Sith Knight as he trudged through ice and snow, the wind whipping against his mask and the artic warfare helmets of his troops. Even with the heating of his suit, and the sustenance of the force, he could still feel the world's icy chill in his bones.

"Sir, we are at the designated extracted point." Radioed the commanding officer of the platoon. "Secure the area." Cale responded curtly. Following the command without question the troopers went about their business. Two machine gun...or blaster, whatever, teams set up facing the west, and more importantly the Omega Protectorate base. An anti-vehicular launcher was also set up on that front while basic troopers spread out, forming a rectangular perimeter with an area of about 300 feet with a higher concentration on the side of, you guessed it, the OP base.

If the operation went south, orders were simple, cut your losses. Strike Team Able and Cale were to pull back without question. The rescue of [member="Darth Banshee"] wasn't their mission, the only job they had was to get themselves and any One Sith personnel or allies that made it to them off world when the time came. "Area secure, T-1 is up and scouting." The officer reported as the T-1 reconnaissance droid left the safety of the perimeter towards the OP base. If all went well the floating ball would be their eyes and keep them up to date, unless a blizzard kicked in, then things would get hard.

[member="CT-2600"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Spectre"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] @Memorial

 

[Darth Veles]

Veles impatiently paced to the far end of the cockpit and back to the window, his large amber eyes watching the snow-covered planet with a worrisome look on his face. The Mon Calamari found the endless waiting agonizing, wanting to be already on his way back with Sabrina aboard the ship! Memories of a certain torture session of the past flashed through his mind, and he could see it as clearly as if it happened yesterday; a captured Jedi strapped to a chair, her organs being removed. A very gruesome and agonizing way of extracting information, yet he did not protest upon witnessing it. She fully deserved it, after all. Right now though, the amphibian wished he had never seen it, as his imagination swapped the filthy Jedi with poor lady Banshee. The Mon Cal’s webbed claws absent-mindedly tapped into the metal wall on his right as he turned on his heels, going back to the cockpit, his mind still filled with disturbing images. Of all Sith those terrorists could have captured… lady Banshee!

Clasping his hands behind the back and closing his orange eyes, the Sith Master forced himself to stop and focus. As much as he disliked the fact, the capture of his best friend had affected him far more than he would have imagined. Logically, he knew going after his friend hot-headed only increased the chance of failure, but… lady Banshee! One of the few who shared his ideals and acted as true Sith! Unwilling to lose the few people he truly valued as friends and also respected as strong-willed individuals, Darth Veles took several deep breaths and opened his eyes, glaring at the back of the pilot. “Take us to Hoth, pilot, several kilometres away from the supposed location of the base. Then keep your altitude low, fly as close to the ground as possible and get us closer to the extraction point.” The Sith Master addressed the man, his face stone.

While the small ship ripped through the atmosphere, the Sith proceeded to prepare himself, checking his armor and weapons. Everything appeared to be fine, therefore the amphibious man moved to the cargo bay where the rest of his team awaited, each of the twelve men dressed in modern Sith trooper armor and armed with standard blaster rifles, light machineguns and scatterguns, also wielding thermal detonators. All sat in their seats, the Mon Cal being the sole exception as he took several steps closer to the door that would release the rescue team into the freezing hell of Hoth and remained standing there, his gloved hand grabbing a handle. Even when the ship slightly shook when going through the atmosphere and then the strong winds present on the planet, the Sith Master maintained his footing. The cybernetic augmentations certainly helped, he could not imagine not having those. How quickly could one get comfortable with a body upgraded like this! The only comparison that came to Veles’ mind was the Dark Side; enhancing and changing one’s body, much like the technology.

The soft bump that came several long minutes later signalized they have landed. One step forward and the Sith Master stood in reach of the control panel. As the soldiers around got up and lined up, Veles pressed the button and opened the hatch, also causing the ship to extend a ramp that swiftly made contact with the snowy ground. Icy breeze immediately carried hundreds of snowflakes inside the ship, but none of the men in the cargo bay cared, all wearing full body armor. The group marched out, and as soon as the last soldier stepped off the ramp, into the snow, the hatch of the ship closed again. “Everyone, follow me, formation wedge!” the Sith Master ordered and moved out as the soldiers positioned themselves behind him and followed, their swift pace moving them towards the base.

[member="Cale Gunderson"] [member="CT-2600"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Spectre"] [member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Noah Corek"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge watched the feeds, brow furrowing - his halberd was glowing just a little brighter. There were more coming. He quickly sent a message to [member="Ayden Cater"] - Will likely need to abort plan. Unsure as to how many are coming to free her. Perhaps she does have friends after all.

 

[Antoir Setrrin]

They'd never feel her presence. To them, she was dead. Literally. Ven'Rain Sekairo was a vong-shaped, sith-spawned, mad merc who had nothing to do with the force. It could not sense her whatsoever. Which means that those who she used to serve could not feel her. As far as they likely knew, there were only a few (sentient) guards posted on Hoth at the moment. In reality there was at least one more. This one was not your average soldier. She was practically an eight feet tall wall of muscle with a- scratch that- with two lightclubs. In heavy armor. Ven was a military force's dream. Nowadays, that is. Previously her mind had not been her own. Things had been said, things had been done. As horrible as the those things were (over a dozen Jedi had fallen on Coruscant because of her) her heart was now in the right place. Finally the real Ven was back in control of things.

Even had a real family now. One who stood be her side through thick and thin. For the sake of said kin, she had decided she wouldn't let anyone get in the way of her family's safety. Not even those she had once worked with or cared for. Guarding a prison didn't exactly help much. But it was a start. A path that would lead to bigger and better things. Or that was the hope, at least. Little did she know today would be the day she got her chance to prove herself again. For real this time.

Currently she stood outside the prisoner's cell, casually twirling her unactivated blade around. Though anyone working directly with the Protectorate would know she was on their side, some might think she was a Sith spy/infiltrator, considering she assisted the One Sith during the Battle of Coruscant. The color of her lightsabers didn't help. Both were as red as could be. Not that it mattered, really. It would soon become apparent to all what side she was on.
[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Cale Gunderson"] [member="CT-2600"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Memorial"] [member="Spectre"] [member="Reverance"]

Spoiler: Equipment:

Armor: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/24137-battle-armor-iih/

Weapons:
Two red Light Clubs, one attached to belt, other in hand
4 Anti-FU Grenades (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/12190-anti-force-user-grenade-series/)
1 OPR-2 Blaster Rifle, Strapped to back (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/9596-opr-2-blaster-rifle/)
1 BTI-WB Blaster Pistol, attached to belt, (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/11426-bti-wb-woebringer-heavy-blaster-pistol/)

Assistants:
4 MK 1 HBD-300 Droids, patrolling prison, (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/18325-hbd-300-droid-series/)
4 MK 2 HBD-300 Droids, patrolling prison, same link as above

Spoiler: Status:

No killing, serious injuries (loss of limb, multiple stabbings, severe burns, temporary blinding, etc) acceptable.

Link to Bio: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/26092-venrain-tritos-sekairo-the-shattered-knight/#entry357294

Height: 7 feet, 8 inches
Weight: 314 pounds

Choice of Music: N/A ATM

Alignment: Protectorate

 

[CT-2600]

CT-2600 stood on the wall looking into the snow "Ugh fethin snow..." he could barely see past the whiteness of the snow he aimed his sniper rifle out at the snow he decided to turn on his headlight attached to his helmet the light shot out and he continued aiming he stood there until the point where he was getting tired "Ugh....maybe I should just sit down" the clone mumbled he layed against the cover and began to slowly get more and more tired