FO Dominion of Manpha | Corruption Has Its Consequences

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | The First Order

Due to a pesky schooner and several small fishing boats, it had taken Val longer to get in position than she'd have liked. For a moment it looked like the yacht was going to hover over a falls, but as the agent closed the distance she saw it wasn't a falls - merely a rapids. *Blast.* She hadn't been prepared for turbulent water - in fact, it was just about now she was wishing she'd opted for a speeder bike instead of the little skimmer. Throttling the engine she sped up, eyes carefully watching the yacht where both Lotus and the other agents were. *I can't provide cover like this.* What she needed was a cigarette. *Too bad.*

With an annoyed sneer Val engaged the skimmer's autopilot. It wouldn't be quite as dynamic as having her behind the wheel but it was necessary. Lowering her body into the passenger area of the craft she quickly opened the soft case, retrieving the long range scope and bringing it to her eye. A moment later she had eyes on the deck of the yacht. She couldn't tell the difference between patron and agent - the other two she'd never met. Lotus however... *There you are.* She saw the woman through a particularly reflective pane of glass. "Careful Lotus, you've got..." Agent Kordova's thoughts were interrupted by a painful screech of the comm device in her ear. *Feth.* By the time she had adjusted the device and peered back through the glass Lotus was nowhere to be seen, in her place stood a well clothed man. *Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.* She could feel her heartbeat tik up a notch as she frantically tried to sort out the situation.

"Am I made?" - "Mockingbird, can you tell?"

Forcibly slowing her breathing she focused her attention on the man standing there, his facial expression readable through the long range scope. Two seconds that felt like a lifetime passed before she keyed back to the concealed operative. "Lotus, you look clear. Praise the gods. Hold position." Val wished she'd assembled the rifle before setting off, the risk of being caught with it though was too high. Further still, to fire now would ruin any chance they had at completing their objective covertly. Another few seconds passed an the man through the glass made towards the closet doors as if to close them before being interrupted by an unknown, it appeared he was being summoned - no doubt by a female companion by the looks of it. The closet forgotten he exited from view. "You're clear now Lotus."

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Path of the Toad
Nearby: [member="Samka Derith"]
Allies: The First Order | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

As always, Castor would plod onward - though he tried a little bit harder to keep up. He had forgone his typical armor, instead opting for a lightweight tunic and trousers. He was thankful for the foresight to do so. "So, these Shawda Ubb. Strange little creatures. I can't say I've ever met one. You think they hold value to the Order?" His question wasn't particularly invasive but he was definitely curious. Castor sought knowledge above almost all else. A warrior didn't live to his age without being wise - and wisdom wasn't a constant. It required frequent growth, development, attention.

Stepping nimbly between two fallen branches he stopped suddenly, eyes scanning from his right to left. Had he heard something? It was hard to say, a quiet gurgle of muck, wildlife unknown? After a brief survey he continued, this time reaching out to the invisible. Like a shroud he could feel the presence of the Force wrapped around him, slithering between the trees, oozing from the ground - and something else. "We're being watched." he whispered matter of factly, continuing to move forward through the misty bog.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel splashed picked up her hat and fanned herself with it, sighing quietly as her adrenaline levels returned to something approaching normal. The young woman caught her breath and turned back towards the balcony. She couldn't tell which of the crafts out there was the one bearing Mockingbird, but she was glad that one of them was. She made no other movements; goodness knew who else might be watching. Instead, she went to her dressing table, leaned over it and placed her hat atop her head, securing it with a simple hat-pin against any potential gusts of wind. It was a wide-brimmed affair, sitting at a jaunty angle, designed to provide fashion first and protection from the sun second. Properly kitted, Isobel stood and exited her cabin, slipping out before the Temples noticed. She found her seat at the luncheon party, only to find that by some semblance of chance -- or possible Security Bureau magic -- she was seated between Colonel Fumberlatch (a geriatric and mostly deaf veteran of a war no one else was alive to recall) and Mr. St. John himself.

"How are you settling into your cabin, Mr. St. John?" asked Isobel kindly as she tucked into her soup. It was a seasonably appropriate gazpacho, which worked well for being a warm day on the deck. "I think the views from our side of the boat have been slightly better than the other side, don't you think?" St. John was somewhat broody; he seemed to be searching for someone as he answered absent-mindedly. Isobel followed his gaze down to two of the other empty seats at another table. Isobel smirked; he was rather a forlorn lover, it seemed. Time to exploit it. "Though perhaps the other side of the ship is getting better rest. I could barely pay attention to my book before I came to lunch with the next door cabin being so... energetic."

This caught St. John's attention. "Energetic?" he echoed.

Isobel didn't let on that she understood his interest, gazing coolly at the view opposite her as she sipped from a wide glass of champagne. "Do you know if the Temples are newlyweds? They struck me as a bit long in the tooth for it, but the noises coming from their cabin just before luncheon were so... enthusiastic. I can only hope I'll be limber enough for it at their age." She smirked over at St. John, her dark eyes carrying a hint of mischief.

At that moment, as if on cue, the Temples emerged back on deck. "Oh my," said Isobel. "They look flushed, the poor dears. Or should I say jammy bastards?"

[member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Delilah Graham"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | [member="Dominic Craig"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Allies: The First Order
Objective: Diplomatic Outreach

Rather quickly Dante and the small entourage in tow were quietly hustled towards a large circular hut. By far one of the more inviting buildings, Dante could see the gentle flicker of a fire from inside. *At least we won't be cold and wet while we conduct our business.*Ducking low due to the shortened door frame, Dante rose once inside. The sight before him was expected but no less strange than he'd imagined. Set about the room, the amphibian Shawda Ubb were seated upon what appeared to be some sort of stools. Gawky legs awkwardly folded up beneath them. As Dante looked from one to the next, he noted every single one seemed to be smoking a long reedy pipe. *It must be a cultural thing.* he noted.

In their sing-song, half croak voices, they greeted the small group. After the introductions, Dante was given the floor - they were straight to business. The Moff couldn't blame them - for so long they'd stagnated, left someplace between the edge of the galaxy and nowhere. Not only this, but exploited by the ever richer oil barons year after year after year. "Gentlemen..." there was an uncomfortable pause before a less than subtle cough came from one of the amphibian natives. "...and ladies." he continued. "My name is Dante Calgar, of the First Order. Today I come to you, the people of Manpha, with an offer I think you'll find hard to refuse."

As his words came to a natural pause a voice uttered to his left. "We've heard that before..." followed by another. "You're just another corporate shill!" Despite his irritation Dante held it together, responding with a disarming smile. "Come now, I don't belong to a company or a corporation - I am an official representative of the First Order, surely that means something. Now. What I have been authorized to offer you is significant. All of your operations are local, correct? Each community drilling and refining their own stock before resale to these barons?" A quiet filled the room before a few of the Shawda Ubb nodded and replied in the affirmative. "What I can offer you, is self sustenance. Forget the local operations - we can build an infrastructure, expand your current operations, and even centralize refining so that you get the best return on investment. Take a look at these projections."

With a deliberate movement he removed the datapad from his pocket. A few taps of his finger and the projected figures including initial set up costs was projected to the elder's tablets. "Compare that to your current figures."

 

[Luther Lewis]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"]
Location: Eleanor Carson's Private Quarters, Yacht

​

“I know your position is untenable” Luther said cooly, browsing the decorations on the mantlepiece. He understood little of modern art, but apparently it involved twisted shapes and sharpened points. A dangerous projectile should the ship lurch, he mused. “Rumor is that you intend to sell to the Temples” he continued. Carson snorted and took a long drag of her cigarette. “As if” she said, but there was doubt in her voice. “What, you have a better deal than them?”

Luther grinned. “Better. I don’t want to own your company, I want to be…a partner”. The woman hesitated before grinding the butt of her cigarette in a golden ashtray. “And how does that help me?” Luther’s smile widened. “I represent powerful people. People that make the Temples and St John look like children playing in the mud”.

Carson frowned. “Who? No wait, I don’t suppose you’ll tell me. Instead, let me ask this”. Her eyes narrowed to slits, her gaze showing a distinct intelligence despite her inebriated state. “Prove to me that you have such power”.

Luther’s stomach did a flip, yet he willed his face to remain still. This was the most critical moment. If she didn’t buy into his plan, then it would be that much harder to manipulate her. “I can do what none of your spies and agents could never do, Ms Carson. Bring you Lewis Goodchild on a silver platter”. It was a risk, offering up the woman’s mortal enemy but the hunger in her eyes proved he struck the right chord.

“You are certain?” she said, unable to hide the eagerness in her voice. “How?” “Best you don’t know” Luther replied. “But I can guarantee that he’ll be behind bars before the end of the day. However, I'll need something from you. I know you have dirt on him, something that will ruin him. Such information would cripple you if the authorities knew you had it but if it came from an outside source…” Luther left the sentence unfinished, hanging in the air.

Carson’s eyes were wide. She licked her lips, turning the proposition over in her head. It didn’t take long for her decide, however. “Very well, you destroy Goodchild” she said, sticking out her hand. “And I’m sure I can find a place for you and your…benefactors”. Luther smiled again and accepted the handshake.

“We have a deal” he said. And with that, Eleanor Carson’s doom was sealed.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Objective: Day of the Frog
Location: Tribal Village, Wetlands
Gear & Equipment: Loincloth | Wristlink

[ jorah's theme ]​

Rayate and Barhis seemed to have disappeared.

Probably ran screaming all the way back to the shuttle. Perhaps that's what they'd write about for their school report. Manpha. A few hours after making contact with the native people, we ran back to the shuttle, squealing like little girls. The end.

The young Zabrak had spoken to the Shawda Ubb and found a grass-and-mud hut where Voren could rest. A ration bar and a canteen of water from one of the stormtroopers had helped bring some color back to the city boy from Dosuun. The human boy had managed to get the ration bar down while watching Jorah try to play a game with the natives. It was rather akin to badminton, but played more like volleyball.

By the time that the game was finished, Voren was anxious and ready to jump into play. Retrieving a spare loincloth that he'd brought for the trip, Jorah even managed to get the boy out of his Academy uniform and into a pareo, which would definitely hold up to exposure to the swamp better than those wool uniforms.

Stepping out onto the docks, the young Zabrak was eager to get back to swimming. Voren, on the other hand, seemed far more skeptical.

"Is that even water?" the human boy asked, standing on the edge of the dock and peering down into the brackish swamp.

There was simply no reasoning with some people. Jorah just reached out a hand, pushing the other boy over the side. He followed shortly after with a jump off the dock and into the water.

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | The First Order

The immediate danger to Lotus subsided, Val knew she needed to pick up her pace. Tapping a few controls on the command console of the skimmer she locked in her distance from the yacht. It wasn't by any means exact, but it should keep her headed in the right direction without worrying about flying off a set of falls or ending up beached. *Wouldn't that be just my luck.* Val mused as she set her hands to work. From the same case she'd retrieved the scope the agent collected the pieces of the compact long range weapon and began putting the pieces together.

She'd done it so many times before that by the time the weapon was constructed, she'd only looked but once. *I could get used to this - again.* The field had always been her home and it seemed like as of late she was spending more and more time back in the mix. *Besides, the hazard pay is nice.* she thought. "Lotus, Mockingbird. We're coming up to a bend, you'll be on your own for about forty five seconds." Nervously Val glanced at the readouts. Giving it a final glance through the glass before they hit the 'dead zone'. Gazing through the weapon's scope Val kept her body low in the skimmer. Their target, Mynocks and Acklay (Mr. and Mrs. respectively) had come back out onto the deck. Panning left, she could see the unmistakable figure of Lotus. "Hold tight, be back with you in short order Lotus."

Dropping the weapon down to the deck Val took position behind the control console before disengaging the autopilot. Slamming the throttle forward she felt the power of the engine propel the boat faster. *Too bad this isn't a vacation, I might be inclined to find out how fast you go.* she mused.

 

[Progflaw99]

Allies: The First Order
Objective: Diplomatic Outreach

With furrowed, or what Dante assumed to be, brows the Shawda Ubb investigated the data now displayed on each of their tablets. The data was impressive, hollow grunts and strange gurgles greeted the Moff's ears as he waited. In their strange guttoral language they were definitely conversing, no doubt some in immediate favor and others more skeptical - at least that's what he could figure by their tone. For all he knew however, they could be discussing the best type of lily pad or most flavorful bug.

Impatiently he wiggled the toe of his right foot. Sooner or later they would have to make a choice, for their sake he hoped they made it easy. *It wouldn't be the first time we've had to use the hammer.* he thought idly. "If it's a dea lbreaker.." he interjected. "..The First Order has come a long way technologically, enough that your daily lives wouldn't have to change." Awkward looks darted between some of them. It seemed as if they didn't understand what he was saying so he continued. "What I mean to say is that this construction could be made with a mind towards your homes. What we are proposing involves very little in the way of deconstruction, and the environmental impact is a factor in these projections."

His statement aired, the atmosphere seemed to shift as the locals looked at the numbers with fresh eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell some of them were nodding, others content to tap their fingers on the edge of their seats. One of them, presumably the eldest, raised his hand for quiet, voice rising. "We find this acceptable, however what assurances do we have that we will not be trading one master for another?" *A valid question* Dante grimaced inwardly before responding. "What you see here is a generous offer. See that we charge you nothing, provided you are capable of maintaining the operations here - we expect nothing up front and in return only a modest percentage of your overall profits - which are projected to be much higher as time goes on. Your benefits expand exponentially, as will ours even with only a percentage in return."

Again they turned to each other, discussing in their native tongue. Impatient as he was, Dante knew that these things took time. What was important though was that they resolve this before any of the Barons were alerted - else there would most definitely be trouble.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

To an outside observer it would have appeared that Isobel was fiddling with her earring, as some women were wont to do. In reality she was double clicking the invisible comlink to acknowledge to [member="Val Kordova"] that she heard and understood the comment. She didn't expect to run into any immediate issues within the next forty-five seconds but it was good to know in any event.

St. John had gone quiet and pale. Isobel knew that she had struck a nerve. She had guessed that while St. John and Simone Temple were engaged in a clandestine affair, there was some expectothat she not keep up marital relations with her husband. Her goal had been to divide and conquer and for the moment she anticipated that she had done just that. He cast a few furtive and angry glances at the couple before standing up, tossing down his napkin, and announcing loudly to Isobel and anyone else within earshot that he had lost his appetite before stalking off.

That had been approximately forty seconds, right? Isobel waited a few more beats before turning to her other neighbor, the deaf colonel, and saying rather loudly: "I wonder where Mr. St. John has gone!" the colonel grunted something unintelligible, but Isobel didn't care. The question wasn't for him.

It was for Mockingbird.

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | The First Order

It had been a rush, the nimble skimmer cutting through the waves like a knife through butter as Val pushed to get back into alignment. Coming up on the forty five second mark, the agent set the autopilot again, swiftly retrieving her weapon and once more taking up position along the bow. Eyeballing her target through the glass she reacquired Lotus then Acklay - and to her dismay, no sign of Mynock. About to call it in, she heard the chatter from Lotus. "I wonder where Mr. St. John has gone!" *Seven hells* she thought to herself as she rapidly swept the deck from right to left, searching for her target.

*So many people, and they all bloody wore the same summer suits.* she complained inwardly. From one to the next she scanned, a flicker of movement at the edge of the scope catching her eye. *There you are.* Mynock now rest squarely in her sights, or at least - mostly. He was passing down the corridor, thankfully on the side of the ship towards Mockingbird or else he might as well have been in the wind. "Lotus, Mockingbird. Mynock has gone down one deck, making his way aft. Not sure what he's after just yet."

Whatever the man was up to, she could plainly see the scowl stamped into his features. Where would he be going? Surely he can't mean to retire already? She stayed with him, eyes widening as he seemed to stop at one of the cabins. Decidedly not his. *Now what are you up to Mr. St. John?* "Mynock has stopped just outside a cabin. One One Seven." Mockingbird noted, reading the engraved golden plate next to the door.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Objective: Day of the Frog
Location: Tribal Village, Wetlands
Gear & Equipment: Loincloth | Wristlink

[ jorah's theme ]​

The two boys were scaling up and down trees.

Swinging on vines, the pair were happily diving into and out of the dark water. Voren had seemingly lost his fear of the brackish swamp, following along with the Zabrak as the two younglings splashed through the muck.

The two were hardly recognizable as humanoids. Instead, they could have been used as extras on the set of the next Swamp Thing holo-drama. The mud covered the boys from head to toe, bits of grass sticking to their bodies as they crawled through the marsh, playing and watching the different spots and activities that were taking place throughout the village of the Shawda Ubb.

The drums and instruments had come out, lending an air of music to the festivities as the pair of boys tore through the village in an eager race to see everything, while also playing with one another as the carnival continued on.

 

[Luther Lewis]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"]
Location: Private Suites, Yacht

​

He followed close behind Carson, watching as the aristocrat approached an ornate carving of sea life that was splayed out on the back wall. The woman’s slender finger pressed into the turtle’s ruby eye and Luther heard a click emanate from somewhere within the wall. A section of the carving popped out and Carson pushed it back to reveal a hidden safe. Carson placed her hand upon the dial and turned to Luther with a coy look. The agent rolled his eyes and turned away as she imputed the code. He turned as he heard the ‘thunk’ of the safe door opening.

What the wealthiest people often chose to keep secure fascinated Luther. What on earth would a woman, who kept her jewels on the wall, consider worth protecting? In the case of Eleanor Carson, it was a pile of documents. Hard copies of deeds, salacious pictures and, most importantly, evidence for blackmail.

‘What I wouldn’t give to spend a good long time sifting through that safe’ Luther thought. Unfortunately, the woman only retrieved the specified file and re-locked the safe. “My giving this is a sign of great trust, Arthur” Carson said, her lips twisted into a curious smile. “I’m a good judge of character and I know what you truly are. You are a spineless worm, little better than a speaker for your superiors and hired only because you put on a good face”. She held out the document and Luther’s hand gripped the edge. Carson didn’t let go, however, and he looked up to catch a venomous glare. “Don’t try to cross me” she threatened, her voice little more than a low hiss. “This river runs deep, and accidents aboard happen all the time. Do you understand, Mr Issac?” Luther said nothing and eventually she let go of the document. He moved over to the bar, downed the rest of his drink, and left.

- - - - -​

​

Lewis Goodchild’s cabin wasn’t far from Carson’s, but it was that much further in status. Just the corridor towards the door dwarfed the woman’s cabin in terms of luxury. Luther felt a wave of disgust for the almost gratuitous show of wealth.

He gave three sharp knocks on the door and it took a mere three seconds before a blaster was shoved into his face. “What do you want?” The guard asked, gruffly. “I’m Arthur Issac” Luther said, not missing a beat. “I’d like to speak with Lewis Goodchild”. The guard grunted. “Mr Goodchild is a busy man and doesn’t take callers. What exactly is your business?” Luther allowed a wry smile to cross his face, the feeling only slightly ruined by the blaster barrel pressed into his forehead.

“Just tell Goodchild that I can give him Eleanor Carson on a silver platter”.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel couldn't picture her map in her mind's eye; she didn't know who was in room 117. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember, rubbing the bridge of her nose intensely. "Hell," she muttered.

"Hmm?" asked the Colonel.

"I SAID, DO YOU WANT MORE WINE?" Isobel topped off the old man's glass without waiting for a response, then pushed away from the table, gathering her silverware in her napkin as she did. As she made her way down the deck, she touched her earpiece. "Control, the occupant of room number 117 please," she muttered. "Mockingbird, I'm going for Acklay's room now. Can you let me know if she leaves the top deck? I don't know if you can monitor both at once, but I don't get the idea that he's going to spend much time in his wife's room on this trip, so if you can only choose one, I'd say her."

She came down the steps to the stateroom deck and placed two of her borrowed utensils on the first landing, the idea being that she would hear anyone coming down, who would either stop or comment. Thus secured, she knelt by the door, pulled her lockpick from her hair, and set to work on Acklay's door. She made short work of it and only a few moments later she was shutting the door behind her and throwing the deadbolt. She immediately began to search the room, but his time she wasn't as careful. She wanted to destabilize Acklay's relationship with Rancor; if she thought he was checking up on her -- violating her privacy -- then maybe something would come to a head.

[member="Val Kordova"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | The First Order

It was a bold move, one Val wasn't sure she'd have made in the moment but she would go along with it. There was a reason they'd put her behind the glass on this one. "I'm on it Lotus. Flicking her finger up to the holographic display control, she tabbed over a few settings. The lens switched to a wide angle mode, converting the narrow view of the scope into a zoomable picture in picture display. Locking on to the coordinates by the door, she tagged it before moving to their other target. Acklay. The woman had remained on the top deck - at least for now.

Val smirked as she watched the woman. *Well well well, it seems Mrs. Temple has quite the chops.* Val had her own subtle ways of manipulation but they more often than not relied on pressure applied in just the right places, not the emotional skullduggery that was in play here. Mockingbird too was curious as to where precisely St. John, Mynock, had gone - perhaps their handler would have more information available. Could that reveal yet another piece to the puzzle?

A soft beep from the skimmer's console alerted Val to a hazard ahead. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she returned the rifle to the deck and faced the controls. Ahead rest a complex network of falls - they'd made excellent time but soon the yacht would arrive in anchor position. The itinerary had the crew scheduled for a front upper deck photoshoot as it hung over the panoramic backdrop of the falls. It would be breathtaking, a hint of danger adding to the mystique of the backwater world of Manpha. Inputting manual coordinates, Val selected a position that would allow her to provide overwatch without the risk of shooting off the falls. *Wouldn't that be a way to go.* she mused. Turning back to the rifle and raising her eye to the scope she sought out their quarry - the elusive Mrs. Temple. Her heart skipped a beat as she failed to locate the woman where she'd been only a moment before but returned slowly to normal as she caught sight of the woman near a punch bar. "Acklay still on the upper deck. Heads up Lotus, they've nearly arrived at the falls. You may have company shortly - if the brochures were to be believed, I imagine they'll be changing into.. or well, out of their clothes."

 

[Progflaw99]

Allies: The First Order
Objective: Diplomatic Outreach

Having given the Shawda Ubb ample further time to peruse the data in front of their amphibian faces, Dante grew impatient. Progress was a machine constantly in motion, and if they missed their window because of the utterings and contemplations of a few amphibian natives on a backwater planet such as Manpha... A subtle twitch played at the corner of his lips. Clearing his throat, he addressed them all again. "Excuse me - I needn't remind you that time is of the essence. Every minute here is a minute your corporate overlords could very well discover this plot and make things unnecessarily difficult both for the First Order and for you."

What they needed was a yes. It was one thing to subjugate a system, but to pull one out from under a loose ring of corporate barons? That would take significant effort - and that was assuming they were all the while unawares. The FOSB of course was working that angle, and the Navy in system had standing orders to move on the Baron's assets as soon as the signal was given - it was a complex game with many moving pieces that relied on others, but it was non-negotiable. This needed to be done.

"Well then, what'll it be?" The toe of the dark sheened boots tapped on the wooden slatted floor. "Time's wasting folks, and I can guarantee you won't get a better offer from the Coalition or any others. If you want this, really want this, we need to move on it." The soft tapping of his toe stopped, eyes scanning the room from stretched face to stretched face. "I need an answer gentlemen, ladies."

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Objective Path of the Toad
Allies: [member="Castor Ren"], [member="Samka Derith"]


Kyrel waded through the misty swamps, along with the Ren he was with, hearing Castor muse to himself on weather or not the beings they were after had any value. Kyrel spoke through his mask answering in kind. "Perhaps they do, but we will do what our Master commands of us, and if they are smart they will easily join us... Yet I take it might not be that easy." He kept moving his heavy steps through the mud. Reaching out with the Force, he confirmed what Castor had been saying, they were indeed being watched. The natives knew that they had come, and while he read that they are not hostile if they saw them as a threat they would defend themselves if need be.

Looking back to Castor, with the enhanced audio receptors in his helmet, he could hear the rustling of plants within the swamp, he knew that they were close. "They are in the trees. Step carefully, I sense that we are getting close to their village." He said, zooming in through his HUD to see a rather primitive looking village within his view, it wouldn't be long now before they were carefully out of the bog they were in, and at the very best offer them a choice on what the Force Sensitives would do, and for their sake, he had hoped that they would choose the right choice.

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Path of the Toad
Nearby: [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

It started as an itch at the back of his mind, one he couldn't scratch. He knew without a doubt that they were being watched but this was something more, a hint of intent. Mid step it came again, this time unmistakable. In an instant Castor had thrown his body to the ground. Just in time as a the whistling of a dart buzzed past his ear. The splash and resulting mess of mud saw an expletive slip from his lips, widened eyes searching for the source of the weapon. Picking himself half up from the ground he heard another whistle, predated by another pinprick against his subconscious. "Guard yourselves!" he cried, stumbling to his feet and pressing his back up against a particularly moss covered stump.

They had come under attack. Darts, weapons known to be used by the Shawda Ubb and the practitioners of Toad. Castor wasn't eager to experience the effects of the various poisons he'd read about. "Where is it coming from?" he hissed, hoping one of the other two had managed to identify the source of the darts. There was no way they could have been surrounded, could there have been? *Schip!* Ducking his head, a dart embedded itself in the trunk next to his neck. Perhaps they were surrounded. "We need to do something, fast!"

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel touched her earpiece as she wrenched the closet door open. "What?" she asked [member="Val Kordova"], unsure of what she had heard a moment earlier. "They're going to do -- ah!" Her voice broke off as she laid eyes on a distinctive high-necked cloak and matching turban. Bingo, she thought and pulled both garments from the closet. She tucked them over her arm and helped herself to a brooch from the bureau before she shut the door to the hallway and went to the communicating door to the Mr. Temple's suite; it was unlocked. She opened it and went through, snatching the purser's ticket off his desk. She left the door open as she proceeded through, then repeated her shimmy along the balcony to her own room, where she hid her stolen goods under her mattress.

"Do I need a wardrobe change?" Isobel asked. "I hope these people don't expect me to get naked just because we're approaching the falls. Ridiculous!"

She went to the balcony and looked out. Under other circumstances, it might have been a lovely opportunity to relax and enjoy the view. But she would relax once her targets were dead or otherwise neutralized.

 

[Dominic Craig]

The brawl raged in the bowels of the vessel. Dominics face was smeared with blood as he retreated further into the expanse of the engine room. Steam clouded the way ahead, as the FOSB man dipped and ducked through the warren of steam pipes, and cables. His assailants were a crew of engineers, who'd spotted him attempting to tamper with one of the consoles, and had since pursued him. The officer had beaten down three of the compatriots, but was pursued by four others.

As Dominic slid and slipped through the engine room, he was caught unawares by a blow to the back of his head. Knocked forward, the agent deftly reached for his pistol, and fired, blindly at the assailant. A growl of guttral agony resonated through the engine, over the sounds of machinary. Craig crawled further through, under some pipes, before pausing, and getting into a prone position. He was now greasy, his hair smeared with it, and his uniform thick and dirty. He wouldn't be able to slip out as a waiter any time soon. Once prone, Dominic fired, killing at least one of the oncoming attackers, and caused some pause by his compatriots. His bolts hit a boiler, causing it to erupt, and detonate, in a wave of flames. Now it seemed to spread. Grease catching fire, as other machines began to detonate. Seemed it was time for an escape.

[member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Val Kordova"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Dissolution
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | The First Order

"Nothing so brash dear - they're liable to sun bathe for a bit though towards the front deck pool. In fact several of them are just now rising to return to their rooms." Val caught the motion along the deck in her peripheral. "I've lost eyes on Mynock, still tracking Acklay." With a soft shift to her right Mockingbird could see a wider angle of the decks given the tack her skimmer was set on. While Lotus shouldn't have any unexpected visitors just yet, she couldn't guarantee it for long. Nestled in position Val watched as the yacht came to a precarious appearing halt over the falls, the roar of the falling water below echoing up even to where she could hear it.

As Val found the familiar nook in her shoulder where the weapon would rest, her eyes caught the shimmer of a brilliant flash from one of the portholes just below her field of vision. Adjusting her stance in the small skimmer and letting out a slow breath Val refocused her sights on the small porthole. What greeted her sent a sharp intake of breath rushing into her lungs. "Lotus, we have a problem." Mockingbird couldn't tell exactly what was going on but the red orange flicker from within the lower portion of the ship hinted at something not only sinister but downright dangerous. Moments later the thick black smoke that had begun billowing from belowdecks had made it outside the confines, several explosions sending showers of sparks erupting from a few of the open hatches. "Get out now. GET. OUT. NOW." she sneered into the comms. Frantically Mockingbird scanned the main deck in search of any and all their quarries - their hand had been forced. Little did she know it was by one of their own, a fact that would only become apparent in the after action report.

Catching fleeting sight of Acklay, her eyes widened as she prepared. Forcing her heartbeat to slow, controlling her breathing and applying subtle pressure to the trigger beneath the tip of her finger. Hitting her target without causing collateral damage at this range, with the level of panic beginning to spread would be like making the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs. Keeping her hands steady she slid the crosshairs over Acklay's chest, centering on her body. All emotion drowned out of her body and voice she spoke into the comms, the slightest pressure on the trigger of her weapon prepared to send a round downrange. "Mockingbird to Control. I have a shot on Acklay - Requesting a go."