Objective: 2 - Smuggle in aid
Location: Lothal Orbit
Tags:
Brooke Waters
The planet
Lothal was one of those that had fallen to the Bryn'adul war machine. It was now categorized as one of the Scar Worlds, and now that the Bryn had collapsed many in the galaxy were putting efforts into helping the natives reclaim their homeworlds. In some places such as Charros IV there had been no Bryn left alive, none to resist the retaking of the worlds. Such was not the case for Lothal however; warriors still remained and were determined to hold. The local resistance group - the Broken Horn Syndicate - was just as determined to take back what had been theirs. They'd survived all that time under direct occupation...and now help was arriving.
This effort was multi-pronged. What could be called commando groups had already made landfall and were positioning themselves for an active assault on the entrenched Drael. In the meantime, transports full of equipment were convoying in to deliver much-needed food, weapons, and medicine. Some helped out of pure benevolence, others for a profit. There was also a need for communications equipment; surface equipment had been slagged by the invaders and it had been pure luck that the local resistance had been able to get a message out at all.
Audren was one of those in orbit, though not in a convoy. One might think the
Tínen Sûl had been custom-built for this job. They'd be entirely wrong, but outwardly it was a reasonable assumption. The yacht had been designed to be stealthy at need, though to not necessarily
look stealthy if the systems weren't active. Not only was it stealthy though, it was capable of taking and giving a punch before fading away into the black. On top of that, it contained multiple cabins and storage holds. Those holds were packed to the brim and a number of individuals had chosen to accompany Audren. For better or worse however, the vessel was unique. There would be no convoy line; what it brought was all it would bring. Fortunately there were other supply ships en route...just far more obvious ones.
Currently, the Véraluntë-class ship drifted in space above Lothal. All viewports had been closed up, all running lights were off, transponder silent, and the stealth shroud was active. Passive sensors and comm receivers were running at full though; the Sephi wanted to see and hear everything going on. It did not sit idle, instead drifting on momentum accrued prior to approach the planet. A dead stop meant
dead if they did happen to be detected by patrols. Out here in space they would be next to invisible, but once they hit atmosphere the real race would be on. They couldn't just avoid the enemy ships though, they had to avoid leading the enemy to the resistance base.
The ship's holds carried primarily food and medicine, though some weapons and parts had been stuffed into the spare nooks and crannies. One of the holds, however, was dedicated solely to communications gear. Ceredir Industries didn't directly produce any such gear yet, but the Jedi - and the engineers with him - had
experience setting up similar systems. Until they set foot on the ground they couldn't be sure, but the initial plan was to set up multiple smaller transmitters that would work together to push signals out into the black. For this particular job he was accompanied by two other crew members, both highly-skilled combat veterans that he'd worked with before. The passengers were all volunteers: some medics (a few of whom were full-fledged doctors), some mechanics, a couple resistance types, and the small crew of engineers. Only the engineers were under his employ, everyone else had been new to him.
One of the first convoys was not too far off. A group of Mobquet transports was accompanied by some sort of yacht and a fighter escort. Said starfighters began lancing forward in formation, a blaring challenge to any Bryn patrols in the area, while the transports themselves held back. Likely to wait for an opening they could punch through. From the
Sûl's altered perspective Audren could see several patrol craft altering course to answer the challenge. Part of his brain itched to join the impending fight, but the logical part of him overrode it. The TibannaX fuel tank was engaged and his yacht began moving forward to make use of the new holes in the patrol net. The tank was quite limited, but they wouldn't use up the whole thing getting to the edge of the atmospheric envelope. For now though the ship was just one dark smudge accelerating - with purpose - among the black.
The ship's intercom came to life, luxury equipment almost making it sound like Audren was in each room personally.
"All hands to acceleration couches, we are starting our approach."
