Skirmish Incongruous Basterds [Spy v. Spy]

[Loske Treicolt]

Vicondor // Outside Spaceport // City Streets
Un Amico
​

​

Outside the primary spaceport, the streets were warm bordering on hot, the entropic load of the city trapped by the of the layers to the planet’s crust and industrialized strips. Moisture thickened the air, and the smell of bodies and dried urine was akin to the under streets of Coruscant, if not marginally better managed by a maintenance squadron here.

The city’s cacophonous sounds were drowned out by one another, all eventually coalesced into the typical white noise of an urban, bustling atmosphere. The conversations of languages unknown, sounds of machinery scraping against the duracrete, and general noises that crowds tended to make.

Loske was lost in unthinking thought, watching after a trio of attendants on jumpsuits who were monitoring the sanitation levels of the streets, mopping, and unclogging areas that weren’t passable by city standard.

Vicondor was the urban stage for the upcoming arrest, where The Alliance might leverage the swaths of data the now renegade agent had been feeding them from her time undercover. Details of hierarchy, internal struggles, reorganization. Names, faces, and other useful attributes that might be distributed amongst the shadow network for them to enact on.

Lying never felt right. Before, it had just been a moral thing. An ugliness she couldn’t bring herself to be. Now it was a bit more sensitive, she’d been lied to and the hurt that came with untruth was hard for her to get past when she agreed to help coordinate this. All this hurt for the ultimate attractor: information.

Apparently the information they were seeking to purge today was in the shape of a man. The Moff Inquisitor. Djorn Bline. Someone she’d met before, under mutually false pretenses, when she had been practicing her Corellian accent and donning a façade. For one reason or another, he’d bought into it, and seemed genuinely surprised when she’d pulled off the pink wig and admitted her true identity. They’d agreed to be friends after that, the easy physicality of his company giving no reason to have second thoughts about it. And his promise to never lie. Something they’d shaken hands over.

And here she was, not feeling right about lying and penning a faux story together to draw him, one of those names in Allyson’s report, out of Sith space and somewhere the Alliance could ambush and arrest him.

The invitation the Sith Inquisitor would receive was a falsehood blanketed under the suggestion she’d caught another lead about the vile merchant they’d uncovered on Terminus a year and a half or so earlier. Someone who’d been hunting and selling Force users and she suspected this was an accomplice to the ring. Not wanting to be left out of the satisfying conclusion, they’d meet and track down the final piece of the puzzle together.

To seem less suspicious, she didn’t include any notes about coming alone. Lest that tip him off. The SIA director had suggested that he might be more suspicious than usual, with everything going on, and admonished the Padawan for being naive to try going in solo. Ultimately, she acquiesced and let the Intelligence sect determine the parameters of the mission and reducing her role to the bait. Including the neutral location, luring him into Alliance space was too far-fetched, and right back to Terminus would put them in someone else’s jurisdiction. This had to be clean.

The lie didn’t rest well in her stomach.

Recoiling from the crowds, she huddled beneath a shop's awning while stealing a less-than-subtle glance to her surroundings. Could they all see her? All her allies lurking in the shadows? Their locations weren't completely known to her, given how honest she'd been on her ineptitude with her truth policy. Seen or not, they could certainly hear her, all wired up so everyone had shared comms. She was used to everyone shouting their positions, commands being relayed on the fly and overall more abrasive approaches. Everything about this was more clandestine and subtle than she was used to. It was all very uncomfortable.

Spoiler

TSE: Djorn Bline // Allyson Locke
GA: Olen Halcorr // Corala Gethsverg

THE TITLE IS SPELLED WRONG ON PURPOSE.

 

[Olen Halcorr]

​

Vicondor, Vorc Sector
Near Spaceport
City Streets
Loske Treicolt Allyson Locke Djorn Bline Corala Gethsverg

​

A slight chill in the air lingered as Olen lay prone on the rooftop. In a way it still felt strange, all these backdoor, black operations were things that he hadn't had time to properly get used to. He'd chosen the spot as it was well concealed and able to keep him out of the pitter patter of the rain. Pulling his macrobinoculars to his face, he scrolled the rangefinder, scanning the perimeter, the binoculars turning everything in his line of sight to a green hue. A lone figure traversing down the street, that was Blue, who'd surprisingly agreed to be their bait for the mission. Her disguise was almost laughable to him.

Managing to suppress a chuckle, he kept his eyes glued to the binoculars for any sign of their target. His comlink buzzed next to him and he picked it up.

"Eight to Leader, we're in position, awaiting orders." The coarse, rough voice of the Faleen commando came through the comms, partially obscured by the rain as he'd elected to lower the volume so that he could listen for any movement.

"Copy that Phantom Eight, standby and alert if you see anything, we gotta time this real carefully, Leader out."

Olen had got an in depth copy of the file that Galactic Alliance Strategic Intelligence Service had sent him. Like most it was long and wordy and he distinctly remembered drifting off into a slumber while reading it at his desk. The deadline for them to move out had forced him to read it in full. He'd not been surprised that the SIA kept tabs on someone so obscure that he'd never heard of them. As far as he was concerned, they kept an in depth file on everyone. Perhaps deep in a filing cabinet in Director Gethsverg's Office, there was a dusty file on himself. It was more amusing than uncomfortable to think about.

This man, Djorn Bline, he intrigued him. The information packet had stated that Bline was an Agent of the Sith, doing their dirty jobs and black ops missions, not too unlike himself. Deciding that he wasn't going to stay here anymore, he picked his comlink back up. "Shadow Flight, move into Alleyway on the North Side of the street, opposite the shop. Spectre Flight, meet me on the South Side, in the alleyway by the shop. Turn off your lights with complete com silence, ready your smoke bombs and wait for my signal."

Glad to be off the rooftop, he peeled himself out of the prone position. Checking his payload and holstering his blaster. Heading down round the back entrance, he stalked round the rear of the building, entering the pitch and dingy alleyway as the rest of the teams stacked near the wall, out of the gaze of the street lights, which would alert the target to their presence. Other SIA units were also here, their phase of the mission had not started yet. "Standby everyone." He spoke into his comms, while raising an open fist to the operatives stacked up behind him, indicating that they were yet to see the target.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Please be alive​

The war was a strain on him, sleepless nights exhausting him and putting him on edge mentally. His last mission, on Borosk, got himself into a firefight within the underground complex of the New Imperial military facility which had tons upon tons of fuel and other compounds meant to be used in combustion reactions. Djorn remembered that one hostile Stormtrooper that engaged a thermal detonator and unleashed hell upon all within the vicinity. It was traumatizing to witness burnt armor with cooked corpses inside; Djorn suffered third degree burns across his body, luckily a simple application of bacta gave him temporary relief until treated professionally.

Stressed physically and mentally, even more so with his latest promotion within the upper echelons of the Sith Empire’s hierarchy. Not a day could be wasted.

But this day he wouldn’t mind taking a breather just to catch up with someone he knew. Someone that was the enemy, but...he grew fond of her. Something he kept private to himself as they were traitorous thoughts if they were discovered by his superiors. Could he hate her for the path she chose to walk on? Maybe, or he just couldn’t. He wasn’t programmed or wired up like most people believed in a soldier for the Sith Empire. He was capable of his own thoughts and did have his own complex individuality. Just that he valued his duty, nothing wrong with that...unless it was someone across from the other side.

But he was glad she was alive and not in a list of those killed or missing.

It had been months, almost a year, since they talked, remembering their last time on Terminus when they uncovered a cartel ring that was selling Force Users on the market. That ring was sabotaged, but there was more to it. Surprisingly Loske could potentially hold the final key to all of it. Finish what they started; he did hate when things were half assed. Although the location she selected was a bit odd, Djorn was used to seeing the Jedi in the Outer Rim. Why somewhere so many parsecs away from that side of the ‘verse? Something that made him frown, but he wouldn’t protest against it.

“Stay tight, don’t be too far away, Locke,” he said with a stern voice towards his newest assistant that was responsible in coordination and running his efficient division(s) within the Foreign Intelligence Agency. “It’s just a meeting, though there could be potential to it.” Part of him didn’t want to bring Allyson as he valued his privacy, especially with an event like this. He hated when people were in his business. Ironic considering his own profession was putting his nose into things that did not matter to him. Ultimately he decided to bring the defective Jedi just to see how well she coped to be outside of the Empire. Wanted to see how obedient she was.

“I’ll call you when I need you; meantime, stick to where you perform best,” which was in the shadows and away from eyesight.

The Moff was dressed in clothes belonging to a spacer that freelancer into doing smuggling jobs and other scummy things. Someone that looked like they worked closely with rebels, criminals, and others that compensated their pockets. He was armed, though it was lightweight. Just a blaster pistol, and vibroknife to go along with a personal shield. Very unlike to his standard armor and gear he carried into missions.

Walking out into the city streets where his senses were triggered uncomfortably. Annoying heat, and the heavy smell of body fluids and industrial odor. Almost like every planet with a heavy urban population like Coruscant.

And there she was.

She’s alive​

“Hey,” with a short grin accompanied with the greeting, “been a while, still playing with swords and robes?” A small joke as he knew very well of her Jedi training. “So what’s going on? Heard you got something intriguing.”

Loske Treicolt | Allyson Locke | Olen Halcorr | Corala Gethsverg​

 

[Corala Gethsverg]

Location: Vicondor, Docking Bay Five.

Listening to the comm chatter, Corala felt uneasy about the way this mission could go. It wasn't the first black op she had overseen, but it was perhaps her first as director she would be in charge of. If anything good came for Allyson's defection, it would be the opportunity to grab a rotten bastard like Djorn right out from under the Sith. She only hoped her team was up for it. It was for that reason she had tagged along, though she felt that her presence would only distract rather than assist the squad in their mission. But if they needed her, she'd be there; after all, it was her fault they were in this mess to begin with. Still, she hadn't put on a combat suit in some time. Compared to her business attire, it felt like she was out of her element; had it really been that long? Apparently so.

Within the confines of the make shift control room, Corala watched as her opertatives laid themselves out on the board. The peices were in play, now it was time to make the first move. "Phantom, once you have eyes on the target, you are clear to engage. Remember, take collateral into consideration." She pulled back from the monitor, her hand gripping her chin as what few non-synthetic muscles in her face tightened. If this was some sort of trap, they had fallen right into it, and it was going to be on her to explain it. There was little to do now. Simply sit back and watch, try to call out what she could see. "Get me visual on Djorn again." She requested, and was given a grainy display of where he was suspected of being. She could hardly make out what she was even looking at, as she gave a scowl to the man operating the camera displays. She was tempted to slap her operator across the face, but she didn't. There was no need for that sort of outburst. "Mind enhancing the image quality? I can't tell which pixel is our target." This was going to be a long day. She could just feel it. Still, Olen and Loske were capable. Even though one was a jedi, they both had a reason to get this job done. Her only concern was that Loske might get side tracked, but that's why Olen's team was in the field. It was time to see if SIA was actually capable of this sort of assignment.

Loske Treicolt Allyson Locke Olen Halcorr Djorn Bline

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Someone that I Used To Know //:
//: Vicondor //: Spaceport //:
//: Loske Treicolt //: Olen Halcorr //: Djorn Bline //: Corala Gethsverg //:

Djorn bringing her along surprised her; she had suspected the Moff would instead leave her at home and unused till he assessed his trust in her. Allyson betrayed him before she even knew him, giving Loske the information necessary to find and contact him. Unknowingly, she had revealed to the blonde bombshell the true identity of someone she had already met. The galaxy for how big it was, it was utterly so small. Allyson followed quickly with Djorn as they entered, she, of course, taking a full scan of the room already could feel Loske lingering in the distance. ​

Why had she left their connection to persist? It didn’t make any sense, especially after everything that had happened on Borosk. Allyson didn’t want to think about the apparent reason. Loske had a connection to her, which worked like a homing beacon if she focused hard enough on it. Allyson could also do the same, but she decided not to indulge in Djorn; the last thing she wanted was to be a Loske radar for him. Instead, she nodded and listened. ​

Wrapping her leather jacket around her frame, she moved away from Djorn as he finished his orders. She was a fugitive to the Alliance, and he was the Grand Moff of intelligence, two people that probably shouldn’t be in the field, but here they were. Allyson took a glance around the area, taking in everything with the HUD display contact lens she wore. She focused on her connection to the blonde and pinpointed where she was. Looking towards her, Allyson melded into the shadows, like the good Shadow she was using Force Cloak. One moment she was there, the next she was gone. ​

As she used the cover of the shadows and the Force, the Corellian zoomed-in her lens onto the pair as they moved. It was a strange feeling seeing Loske, she looked tired, and Allyson felt the pang of guilt hit her hard. She tried to lie to herself, blaming the war and how Maynard and Ryv were on the front lines, but she knew she was to blame. Sighing softly, she did her best to keep her emotions in check. Alerting Loske that she was here as well would only jeopardize Djorn’s position and put Loske in danger. ​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Movement from the phantoms was undetected. The kiffar daren’t look around, lest she accidentally expose the subtleties of the shadowy squadron under Olen Halcorr ’s command. Gratefully, the wait ended with the smooth salutations delivered by the approaching inquisitor. The greeting was a continuum their last interaction, and a pang of guilt shot through her chest.

She’d accused him then of setting her up, to collect the jedi bounty on her head. And here she was setting him up.

“Coincidental? You thought....woah, you thought I was with them? Why would I do that?”
“I wouldn’t betray you, you know,”

Concealing her fraught discontent with the situation, she forced an easy smirk and shake of her head, dissuading the pursuance of the subject of jedi and robes. “I’ll try not to take it as an insult that you think it’s playing.”

A whisper glazed over her mind and her countenance almost betray her by evidencing her surprise. She shouldn’t have been shocked, Corala Gethsverg had suggested something like this would happen. Djorn was not alone. And it wasn’t just company, it was company she knew. That intrinsic murmur took the shape of a name she knew well, a former best friend. Allyson Locke was here. Loske tried not to look agitated. This would complicate things exponentially.

Allyson was the reason Loske, and by extension, The Alliance, knew about Djorn and his position within The Empire. If she was here, the inquisitor could be well aware this was a trap from the get-go. Depending of course on how Allyson played her cards. Much of the Padawan wanted to believe her friend was still in there, still rooting for the good guys and wouldn’t destroy this beyond repair. And if she was here...SIA’s objectives could be split. Divided between the target and the burned agent. Or Allyson could expose them before they were ready.

Obvious with her appraisal, she gave the faux-spacer a once-over. “You look good,” no war wounds. And if there had been, bacta had done its job. But she supposed he, like Allyson, wasn’t made for the battlefield. The place for spies were all the moments leading up to the battle. All the traps along the way. “-Like you’ve managed to stay out of the war so far. You turn a profit at all? Pick up a crew so it’s not so lonely?” Yes. Yes he had. Allyson Locke.

He asked about the lead, and she nodded.

“I hope I do anyway. I think there’s another player to that whole..” an aimless gesture was shared between them as she reached into her leather jacket’s pocket, producing a datapad that quickly projected a small, rotating picture they could both look at while she talked. The diagram was falsified—something created by the SIA’s artists to help sell the truth of the story. “Mess you brought me into a year ago. Look at this,” she pointed at one of the dimensions on the rotating diagram, a topographic rendering of a map as if it were a base or something. It was fashioned to look as if it was a part of Vicondor’s landscape. The explanation was simple, there’d been some trailing and creeping around, other people assigned to the task and the clues had rolled in. This was the book-end to their initiated mission.

“And you can’t tell me that doesn’t look like a secure place to keep forcers.” Pocketing the device once more, she gave a shrug of one shoulder and initiated the first step in the direction to..the proverbial cage. “Let’s go.”

 

[Olen Halcorr]

Vicondor, Vorc Sector
Alleyway
City Streets
TAGS:
Loske Treicolt Allyson Locke Djorn Bline Corala Gethsverg

​

That same chill from earlier had come to haunt him once more and it had manifested into the chill of tension. Training his eyes on Loske, he observed with purpose, a man much older than him approach her. In his head he'd formulated an image of what Djorn Bline would look like, hideous scars painted across his face and perhaps even an eyepatch? But no, he seemed almost normal, the stark opposite of what he'd imagined and it repulsed him for some reason. He needed the man to get towards the right position, everyone was stacked and ready, awaiting for him to give the order, the sniper up in the south rootop was invisible to him, the only contact that he would have would be verbal. He opened up comms with both Director Gethsverg and his team on the other side.

"Phantom, once you have eyes on the target, you are clear to engage. Remember, take collateral into consideration."

"Copy that, target sighted at point three, hold it until I give the signal. Phase One is in action."

Olen put out his hand, forming a fist before opening it to an open palm and moving it in a sweeping action. The team knew the hand signal and removed the smoke grenades from their pouches. They rolled them out into the street, which would have had the appearance of balls coming from the shadows. Olen removed his own smoke grenades, feeling them in his gloved hand before bowling them out into the street. A loud bang erupted throughout the rainy block of builds which was promptly followed by a large puff of blinding white smoke going up into the air around both Djorn and Loske.

"Alright everyone, move it! GO GO GO!"

As he started sprinting out of cover, he drew his dual blaster pistols, the barrel trained straight on their target. Just as they did, the commandos of Phantom Group streamed out of the alleyway, filing out to form a loose circle around their target. "Director this is Phantom Leader, we've caught him, Phase One is complete, send in Team Three and proceed with Phase Two." He spoke into the comlink, beckoning the next wave to arrive. They'd completed their task, hopefully without a hitch. Though unbeknown to Djorn, they were only the distraction and the real captors should have been arriving any moment now.

The commandos tightened their circle, blasters, blaster pistols and a sniper in the roofs, all ready to take the shot, Olen would have loved too, but unfortunately for them, their bait, Loske might've been in a predicament as she was in close proximity, but they would keep an eye on her and any complications would be dealt with in due course. In truth, Olen found in exhilarating, he truly wanted to cry out into the night but his professionalism bound him to a neutral expression which would give nothing away. It was unnatural to him to do such a thing on purpose, but he often unwittingly kept his game face on in the cockpit, and that was where no one would see him. Shadow Flight on the North and Spectre Flight near the south, all poker faced.

​

 

[Djorn Bline]

“I try to look my best, after all I can’t have an ugly face appear on those holo-shows,” a shrug with a facade of a smile. They used to pretend as actors on that bar back on Bespin. Sometimes he’d think back on it and wonder to himself what if things took a different turn, or they were just like that? It was fun, something normal. He felt like a machine with his work; always another mission to complete, no matter the cost. The lies, the destruction, and last of all: the betrayal. It overwhelmed him, but he endured as he believed in the duty he swore to. Many things could be said about Djorn and loyalty was one of them, although he was never honest.

“And yeah, I got a crew. Sucks to pay a cut to them, but a man can do so much. Wish you could do part-time with me, could use a stick protecting me from blasters.”

He could feel it. He could feel his facade tearing down as Loske probably figured out who he was. Allyson could have told her and anyone else his true identity...but he did hope. He did hope he was wrong and this was just a simple meetup. Ironic and funny how he hoped as it was an idea used by the Jedi and rebels with its counterpart being fear, something the Empire allegedly personified as.

Prove me wrong, prove my doubts that they are wrong
​

He enjoyed being right, but right now he feared that he was. Peace with the enemy. A clandestine peace. Things were much better and simpler before this war. Sometimes he did wonder to himself who was the real him? It was hard to stick with a personality when exposed to different perspectives of the Galaxy. The life of an agent, he supposed.

“The mess I brought you in? If I recall correctly, you were checking out the interior of my ship with awe. Besides it was cool,” trying to keep up a cool, taking a look at her lead. He did wonder who her lead was. Had to be an information broker of the sorts. Did she know someone on that side of the grid? Maybe she truly took an interest on this shindig. He did follow her lead, wanting to have a conversation with her about this lead and what else that’s been going on. Pretend there wasn’t a war going on.

“I’m glad you’re alive, kind of missed you,”internally cringing to himself as he barely showed any emotion, knowing that it was the perfect way to compromise someone like him. Caring about someone. Something him and Allyson knew all right. He meant what he said, but that would be up for Loske to see if it was.

And then...

...there it was...
​

...the betrayal.
​

It wasn’t hard to see the spherical instruments being rolled towards them, at first glance they looked like thermal detonators or some other kind of explosive. He reacted to his instincts to what he saw, shoving Loske away from the radius as possible until he was wrong when the smoke appeared. The harmonious march of footsteps nearing their position.

“Ah, I see.”

What a fool he was to not think he was right. All based on the slight ounce of hope that something like this wouldn’t happen.

Damn you, Allyson. Damn. You.

His hand reached to his comm, giving a distress signal to the Corellian. No doubt she already knew what was going on and she’d swoop in providing aid. In the meantime he drew out his pistol, aiming it at his attackers that encircled him behind the smoke and firing his own shots. He did have a clear shot on Loske, but he wouldn’t take it. Was it another foolish blunder? Maybe...maybe...

Allyson Locke | Loske Treicolt | Corala Gethsverg | Olen Halcorr ​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Taking the Advantage //:
//: Vicondor //: Spaceport -> Leaving //:
//: Loske Treicolt //: Olen Halcorr //: Djorn Bline //: Corala Gethsverg //:

Allyson watched from the shadows, hidden carefully within the Force. She didn't expect any to be able to find her, except Loske. The woman and her former best friend had a direct link to her mind - allowing her to pinpoint the Corellian's location. Bline also could find her, it was part of the plan and insurance for the man. It was dumb to think this was going to go well for either side. Allyson knew that the information she gave the Alliance was too juicy to ignore but sent Loske in. Why was she the new lamb to the slaughter?​

The Corellian was angry, the Force, the part of her that had fallen fed off of it. How dare the SIA use Loske as bait, even if it was her idea - Allyson wouldn't accept or forgive the organization. Once more, someone was a throw-away asset. Allyson wondered how long it took the SIA from preying upon Loske. Blame was everywhere, when Allyson thought about it, she knew that she had placed Loske in the path of the SIA. Having that connection with her, using the girl as a handler in place of a real one, was Allyson's fault. ​

All of it was Allyson's fault. ​

She was already on the move, she noticed the troopers start to shift among the crowd. There was hope that they didn't pull the trigger as fast as they did, but here they were throwing smoke. Idiots. She thought to herself. Smoke was the worst thing they could have dropped; it allowed the target, which was Djorn, a moment to react, and it put Loske their bait in danger. Did they think they were messing with fresh infiltrators straight from the academy?​

Along with her anger, she was now frustrated with how pathetic the SIA had become without her. This was a blunder, and they were going to pay for it. On queue, Djorn's warning came through. It was a good thing the Corellian was already in place. Through the Force bond she shared with the Kiffar blonde, she spoke quickly, ​

'Get out of here; this isn't a game Loske.'​

The Force swirled around Djorn, Allyson finding a new swell of power feeding off her anger from before. The Grand Moff would feel the tug and soon the pull that brought him to the Corellian's side. She was still under the protection of the Force Cloak, and Djorn was now protected by innocents that were causing a bit of chaos from the smoke grenades. "Use the cloak, please and let's get out of here." ​

Now wasn't the time to tell him I told you so, she could already feel his emotions that were unmasked and raw. She was used to these feelings, she felt them through her bond with Loske, and through her former bonds with Ryv and the others. She made sure Djorn moved ahead of her as they used the crowd to blend in. ​

Allyson didn't know what stopped her, but she wanted to make sure Loske was okay; the cloak dropped for just a moment allowing the blonde to see her in the crowd. Allyson caught a glimpse of her through the smoke and waved slightly. In this game, she was the Master, and Loske was the student, she hoped that this blunder only showed her that she needed to leave and go back to her X-Wings and dashingly handsome boyfriend. ​

'Stop chasing and go home where it's safe' She sent a final message and disappeared within the Force and the crowd.​

 

[Corala Gethsverg]

Well, it was on. Watching from the holoscreen as the commandos went to work, Corala clenched her jaw tightly, watching through what she could see behind the smokescreen and the chaos that ensued. She could make out Djorn still, he was reaching for something, then suddenly he seemed to vanish as a pocket of civilians rushed past him. Her eyes strained at the screen as she could see her unit closing in on the area, and yet Djorn was not showing up. Did he have a cloaking device? Were there holocams compromised? "Phantom Lead, do you have visual?" Corala asked, her voice cold and stern, as she felt concern flair up in her chest. "Is something interfering with our feed?" She questioned one of her operators, but the confused expression of the man told her that he didn't know. Corala couldn't let this slip by. Djorn was coming in one way or another.

"I'm going out there, tell me if you got visual, just feed it to me." Taking only her side arm, Corala left the confines of the observation room, moving to leave the YV Transport that was serving as their forward operation post. Her cybernetic eye switched to thermal sight, as she moved to the location she had last seen Djorn, she wasn't going to let this slip by. "Phantom, I'm in the field. We lost visual on Djorn. There might be another factor at play. Stay on alert." If Allyson had anything to do with this...well, there wasn't alot that the Director could do.

The spaceport had dissolved into chaos now, people screaming, smoke filling the air, and someone in their infinite wisdom had wisely pulled a fire alarm. Along with the irritating sounds it produced, there was a person of interest lurking within all this madness, and potentially his bodyguards. This wasn't the sort of place Corala wanted to be by herself, but she didn't see many options now. She wasn't going to let Djorn get away.

She switched her com to speak with Loske now, a bit bothered by the silence she had been receiving from the jedi. She was close to Allyson from what the Director knew, it could very well be possible that this was a rouse that had been created for her to defect. Was it likely? No, but the thought still crossed Corala's mind. As she continued her search for Djorn, her eyes straining to find a hint of the man fleeing, she spoke to Loske. "Loske, what is your status? Do you have visual on Djorn?" She asked, her stoic tone slipping, as a degree of concern was heard in her words. Corala remained composed, but the fact that Djorn had just vanished off the face of the earth bothered her greatly. Who else could have known they would go after him? Who would he have brought with him? It was questions like this that greatly bothered her.

Allyson Locke Loske Treicolt Djorn Bline Olen Halcorr

 

[Loske Treicolt]

He missed her. A fist clenched around her stomach.

“Ah, I see.”

Loske’s face went pallid at the eruption of activity. Djorn’s hands were the thing she felt immediately after shame. Stumbling from his proximity, she forced herself to a halt. Puffs of clouds curled and stung at her eyes, and she tightened her fingers into the palms of her hands. Around her, the particles rescinded back to their natural oxygen state. Modifying in her control. The cloud started to dissipate, mitigating the veil around them. Too many people were panicking as a result of the surprise eruption. It was certainly a distraction.

Something like an apology tightened her expression when she hurriedly turned to look back at Djorn. There was a knowing calm, disappointment on his face and it confused her why she cared. Would she have felt bad if she had met him in his glory with The Empire? Loske’s brow lowered and her mouth rose, squeezing her face into something smaller and thoughtful; laden with regret. She wanted to mouth something, an apology perhaps, but the words were stuck in her throat. What would she say anyway?

The Phantoms erupted around her, and she was effectively immobile. Letting them do the dirty work while her muscles turned to stone. That had been her plan from the start. Don’t get involved beyond drawing the Moff to them and let SIA take it from there.

Her attention was yanked from the disorder around her. Desperate excitement coursed through her body.

'Get out of here; this isn't a game Loske.'

Her eyes snapped up, searching without seeing. She’d been right. Allyson was here. She was working with Djorn.

Why. Why couldn’t she use this opportunity to come home? Why couldn’t she crawl back to the arms and safety of her friends, and if she wanted that Jorryn woman to be free..they could go get her. Together. It made her upset, so she forced the thoughts into a tiny box at the back of her mind to unpack later.

Loske lurched forward, gripping at Djorn’s arms. She met the bicep of an unsuspecting civilian and dropped her barrier, twisting her face into something that looked more apologetic and quickly discarding the hold. Strings of excuse me, pardon me’s slipped from her as she navigated and cut through people’s erratic shuffling. Residual mist from the smoke clung to her silhouette. A collection of Phantoms were hot on her heels.

She almost guffawed, baffled by the Director’s announcement that she was in the field. Bad idea. Terrible idea. That woman was an equal part machine as she was muscle, and Allyson had an affinity for destroying and controlling machines. This was going disastrously, and she regretted agreeing to partake so plainly. Djorn as a relationship was burned now. Futility could not triumph today. <Allyson’s here.> She breathed out. <And I have no visuals.> She murmured through clenched teeth, the admittance almost painful -- but she pressed on.

Until she stopped in her tracks, a few civilians were bumping her while Allyson’s face painted amidst the crowds. The Corellian waved. Something that was meant to be friendly, but felt condescending. Loske willed her feet to move. <Wait. Yes visual, in the crowds. No Djorn -- there won’t be a Djorn. They’re completely cloaked. You have to look for someone new in the crowds that wasn’t there five minutes ago. Can we cross reference feeds like that? In the city?>

The invisible link between the two Jedi wasn’t as strong as it had once been, punctured by that attempt to sever their connection –– but it was enough for Loske to hone in on. If it didn’t exist, Allyson would have been completely out of any sort of sensory detection. Despite her receding to the Force, the intimacy allowed Loske to keep a vague trace on the aloof impression of her friend. It was the only thing keeping her moving forward and weaving with an air of confidence.

'Stop chasing and go home where it's safe'

>Allyson. Please, you can’t go back with him. He’s going to know you’re the reason we’re here.<

Maybe it was the desperation, but suddenly Allyson’s face was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Her breath became ragged, not from the exertion, but from the complexity of the situation.

Loske didn’t stop moving or fixating on that ethereal node. It was dim. But it was there.

>If you help him, I'm worried the burn notice will just be the start. You’re getting further and further away, please don’t.<

She reached forward to a head of volumized brunette, gripping the shoulder and spinning the person around. Allyson’s face flickered, but quickly faded to blue eyes that were not hers and a smaller mouth that was parted in shock. Hostile, the woman swatted at Loske and the Padawan was forced to apologize and move on. Allyson was still everywhere and nowhere. Loske reminded herself to focus and communicate.

<They’ll need to get off the station. Can we lock down the spaceport? Or get some of these Phantoms there? Us running in a straight line after them isn’t the best move.>

Taking her own advice, she peeled to the side and out of the thickness of people moving around to distance themselves from the smoke, looking skyward for something to scale for some good old fashioned rooftop leaping.

Olen Halcorr // Corala Gethsverg

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Taking the Advantage //:
//: Vicondor //: Spaceport -> Leaving //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:

Allyson had decided that she was going to make a run for it. Leaving the scene would have been the best bet for the Corellian, especially following Djorn. They were both wanted now by the Galactic Alliance. If only the SIA had pulled off the raid and had captured Djorn. Things would have gone right, then she could have killed Djorn and handled that loose end. There were so many loose ends, and Allyson was left to clean them up. The Corellian slipped into the shadows, determined to go, but she felt something close, something that smelled floral in a sense. Running beside her was a blonde woman who had just appeared.​

Wide-eyed, Allyson wondered how the pilot had caught up to her so quickly. Had she let her musing slow her down, or was Loske actually getting the hang of this stuff? She was both impressed and concerned; she never truly wanted Loske to be involved. It would have been better if Loske, like the others, had just completely forgotten her and treated her like the traitor she was.​

Footsteps followed the same stride as the Kiffar; the least aware Loske was of Allyson being there, the better. It would give the Corellian the upper hand in taking her down. The rooftop broke over one of the alleyways, and when the leap was taken, Allyson followed. Mid-air, Loske was at her most vulnerable, and that’s when the traitor would strike. As the blonde flew across the gap, Allyson lunged forward and wrapped her arms around her waist, and forced them to plummet. Down, down they fell, Allyson fully prepared to cushion the fall, but noticed her lack of judgment.​

The pair fell deep into a large trash bin that was conveniently left open. Because of this shock, the force cloak that Allyson had been maintaining would fall off, and she would be sitting comfortably on Loske. Allyson realized that she was visible and looked down at the blonde and quickly moved to grapple her hands down, pinning her to the cardboard that was their landing pad. Allyson stared down at her friend, wanting to curse at her, telling her that she still cared. She wondered why she hadn’t taken the easy way out of all of this.​

Anger washed over Allyson’s face as she stared down, Loske had been there for her so often, and now they were enemies. She needed the Kiffar to understand, and she needed her to hate her. Allyson had maimed her brother, the same man that she had promised to protect and make happy. She wished she didn’t make those promises, she wished she didn’t let anyone get close, and she wished she would have remembered the rules set before her by the SIA and so many other agencies before her.​

“Why are you here?!”​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Invisible impact struck her. An unseen strength clenched around her waist, forcing whatever air had gathered in her lungs as she propelled forward out into the chasm between rooftops back out through her throat and emptying her torso of oxygen. It was like someone took a hammer to her spine and ribs. Everything got quieter, a little more distant. Winded, disoriented, panicked, she grasped at the nothingness that evaded her fingertips entirely. Her grip was as empty as her lungs.

Whatever trajectory she’d imagined when she’d initially jumped from the edge of the building to the next was intercepted and overrun by the full force that brought her into freefall. Her stomach moved up to where her brain was supposed to be, and her eyelids felt as if someone were exhaling behind them. The clammer between the interloper and the Padawan was short-lived; cut short by the resounding impact of muck, metal and oof.

Winded, dazed, and entirely out of sorts, the kiffar blinked several times. The stars and creeping shadows in her vision hardly rescinded before the accusatory tone was hissed in a familiar accent. A face all too near her. It was black, backlit by the luminescents of the alleyway until it started to fill in the details she knew to be her best friend’s face.

“Allyson!” Loske gasped. A numbness was spreading through her leg, and up into her belly and she feared it might have been broken. She couldn’t see it with Allyson on top of her –– and she tried to twitch. It responded, which just meant it hurt a lot but it wasn’t beyond repair. The pain was there, but foggy. A thought came to her, then slid away. She tried to land her knee into her former-allies’ crotch, but she wasn’t sure where her legs were anymore. Allyson’s breath was loud and close, her confounded frustration even closer. As if it were pressing against Loske’s face.

She groaned, unable to complete her sentence, and rested the back of her head into whatever muck was eager to cradle the blonde. Straining her words out, she squinted against her better judgment.

“My job–– acting on that lead you..gave.” Her voice seemed to come from far away. If they’d been friends, she might have shared more of the story between the strangeness she felt about knowing Djorn before finding out who he was within The Empire. Maybe they could have talked about it. Maybe Allyson could have helped her sort through her conflicted feelings. That consideration made her tone tip in a shade of venom: “When you were still on our side. You can’t..” she groaned again, searching for the words in her breathless plight. It sounded as pathetic as she felt, and it was frustrating. Her wrists were pinned, and her fingers twitched in agitation. Loske flexed, doing what she could to wriggle and adjust so she could enwrap the wrists back in a plea.

It was as futile an attempt as trying to strain her neck to re-connect her comms back to the team to relay her position and the acquisition of target. She furrowed her brows, knitting them together thoughtfully as if she might just think the channel open enough to send a ping to the waiting phantoms and director.

“You can’t keep helping them. What are you doing? This is.. ” She grit her teeth, trying to shoulder her way to a seated position. It was for naught.

Why was Allyson here? With him? Loske couldn't place it. In her mind, Allyson should have been behind bars as an Alliance spy..unless she'd proven she was a turncoat somehow. The idea was rancid in her mind –– almost as sour as whatever was clinging to her hair. Her throat felt tight as she tried to process the rationale that Allyson could be here, operating with the Grand Moff of the Sith's secrets, without a cover.

The smell was becoming overwhelming, and she closed her eyes before giving herself some more adrenaline to leverage out of her position.

Allyson had broken Ryv’s heart. She’d taken his hand. The fragility everyone was feeling was hinged on the wake of confusion the Corellian had left behind her. Ruminating on that made the blonde angry.

“You can come back with us now. Before it’s too late. Karking! Get off me! The Alliance is not leaving here without Djorn. So either get out of the way or help us. Please.”

Allyson Locke // Djorn Bline // Olen Halcorr // Corala Gethsverg

 

[Olen Halcorr]

Vicondor, Vorc Sector
Alleyway
City Streets
TAGS:
Allyson Locke Loske Treicolt Djorn Bline Corala Gethsverg

​

The tension was palpable as Djorn reacted to the ambush. Rather quickly he drew his own weapon, but he had a hunch that the operative knew he was outgunned. For a moment, Olen pondered on what was going to happen next. The original battleplan was that Djorn would surrender but having read the file and hearing the exploits of his man, he didn't believe for a second that it was going to be the case. It was almost like Dejarik that they'd play on the Ouroboros, this man had shown his Grimtaash but was holding off his Mantellian savrip. Textbook move but effective.

Then, he disappeared. "Emperor's Black Bones... Director Gethsverg this Phantom Leader, the target's given us the slip. Captain Matson's on the chase." Lowering his weapon, he went grimaced at Loske, the situation had quickly gone out of their favour. If this was some Jedi magic trick then it would be hard to detect, Matson was going to be their eyes and ears in actually nabbing the target.

"Director Gethsverg, we're going to need some drastic measures, we're locking down the spaceport, we can't let em leave, and where the hell is Team Three?!"

He bolted off through the crowd, the rest of the unit following on, intent to catch him. Part of him said that this was just a wild kowakian lizard chase but it was their best option, without the Force they were practically blindsided. He ordered them to hold and quickly issued orders.

"Shadow Flight, get to the X-Wings, get local law enforcement on this, the rest of you, with me, we're headed to the spaceport, immediate lockdown. Nobody leaves this place, scan every ship. Also, send an image of the target to the Commisioner, we can't let him escape, with me move it! double time!"

And the hunt was commenced. Olen resumed his mad dash for the spaceport, traversing winding roads and walkways. Masses of civilians were in their path which made it impossible to detect anyone. "Get out the way! SIA!" On hearing the order, the crowd formed a gap, some babbling nonsense about rights. The large spaceport soon came into their view, hundreds of ships all stalled because of one person. At this point, even he was a little puzzled as to the importance of this one guy.

As soon as they arrived, indistinct people in full body suits, not too dissimilar to the Coruscant Underworld Police, approached him, a diminutive man with a pot belly, seemingly their leader addressed them.

"Hello there, Commander Olen Halcorr I believe? I've heard of you, your people are the poster boys of the Starfighter Corps."

"Yes?" He was quite surprised that he'd been recognised in a place like this. He knew there'd been some recruitment posters but the Public Relations Department of the GADF hadn't notified them about anything like this.

"Anyhoo, I'm Deputy Commissioner Tarrc Ronsen. Vicondor Law Enforcement. What the hell is going on? The Comissioner didn't get anything like this from your Director or Defense Force Command."

"We're pursuing a dangerous criminal working for the S-IMPS, he can't be allowed to get out of our grasp." The last part of his sentence threw him off guard a little as the mission briefing hadn't really mentioned why the Intelligence Agency or the Defense Force wanted this guy so bad. It was confusing, he'd heard rumours about Bline but unsubstantiated rumours weren't of any good to him or to his knowledge of why this guy was strategically important, perhaps a political thing. He gazed up at the sky as he spotted Shadow Flight patrolling the skies alongside police gunships.

Raising his comlink arm to his mouth, he spoke into it, getting on a frequency with the Jedi. "Blue, is everything alright, ya haven't reported in?" He hoped something would come through. Despite the mission objectives, Maynard and Loske were his friends, and he wouldn't hear the end of it from Maynard if anything happened to her.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: this is me trying //:
//: Vicondor //: Spaceport -> Leaving //:
//: Loske Treicolt //: Olen Halcorr //:

The venom that poured from Loske’s words hit Allyson harder than she had expected. Didn’t she want the blonde to hate her? Deep down, Allyson hoped she didn’t and never would; she was the only one that could bring Allyson home back to the Alliance. Still, it was possibly better this way, especially the way things had gone with Borosk. Groaning, Allyson noticed the device and, through the Force, brought it to her lips. Mimicry, a skill the spy had to learn to perfect cleared her throat and radioed back, with a perfect accent, tone, and draw of her best friend. <I’m fine, Stay on target --- Djorn’s alone, Blue out>. Using Mechu deru, she fiddled with the frequency a bit to make it sound like moving - staying on target like the command. Allyson guided the device into her pocket for now with the Force. ​

“I am on your side, I’ve always been on your side -” Allyson knew the woman would bring up Borosk, the mission was botched from the start - all that needed to have taken place was the information exchange. Seeing Ryv and then having Jorryn show up threw everything out of control. Emotions were high, and seeing the potential of Jorryn being hurt made her think irrationally. Rae and Allyson were two different people then, but slowly Allyson had been putting herself back together - she had to if she wanted to survive the Sith. ​

“Borosk was my mess up, okay? I messed up - and I’m sorry. You, Ryv, May - none of you guys should be involved in any of this. You’re Jedi - not spies.” She wanted Loske to be out of this, she wanted her to be back in the skies. “This isn’t your job. This is SIA’s job - which obviously they can’t do, the only thing they’re good at is ruining people, just like the NJO.” Her voice returning the venom that Loske had shot at her. Whoever the director was would find their throat under Allyson’s heel soon enough. ​

Frowning, Allyson forced a small, hushed laugh. “I wasn’t helping Djorn, if the SIA didn’t kark up like they just did, Djorn would have had a bullet lodged in his brain right now. I was hoping for your guys to detain him - I came here to assassinate him, Loske.” Allyson sighed and went against her best judgment and released the other woman, it was a tight squeeze, but Allyson made a note of where the blonde’s legs were just in case she tried to kick her again. Digging into her small pack, she handed over a second rebreather after shoving one over her face. The trash stunk.​

“I can’t go back, I have things I need to take care of in the Empire. I keep telling you, you don’t know what you getting into. You need to stay out of my way - or I’m going to have to make you back off.” The last few words were hard to say, but Allyson needed the threat to be there. If Loske continued down this path, she would end up worse off than the Corellian beside her. Allyson wanted to go home, but she couldn’t without Jorryn without finishing her mission. Despite promising Jyoti that it was over, Allyson still wanted to play the hero.​

Looking at her comm device, she sighed. “Sorry, Loske - next time we meet, it won’t be as friendly, like I said, stay out of my way and stay far away from the SIA.” Suddenly, as she finished speaking, a small odorless vapor was emitted from the rebreather. The padawan would suddenly feel lightheaded and slowly drift off to sleep. Allyson would place down the device after radioing distress to Olen and his men. From there, the Corellian would escape. ​