Nightfall [FO/GA]

[Madelyn Lowe]

Naboo: 14 minutes before Operation Nightfall.​

[x]​

​

Emilia was afraid now. It was less than 20 minutes until go-time. She'd been over the plan endlessly, but it was only now that the tremendous risk of the mission really became clear to her. There was good chance that tonight could end in her capture, demotion, or even her death. As the small, unassuming shuttle began its descent towards the edge of the Theed district of Naboo, Emilia felt as if she was free-falling towards her certain doom.

The plan itself was actually fairly simple. Their primary objective was to infiltrate the Theed Palace, and set up a series of bugs to perform surveillance on Jamie Pyne, and her dealings with the Galactic Alliance. This presented a few minor issues, the first being that Naboo was in the middle of GA space, not exactly ideal location for an operation. Though the scenery was nice. The second issue was the palace. It was heavily fortified, and well defended. It would be a tough nut to crack, and that was if she could keep her agents from cutting each other's heads off.

She cast her mind back to three days earlier, on Bespin, when she'd held a clandestine briefing, planning the details of the mission, from contingency plans to extraction. While the meeting had undoubtedly been useful, the bickering had threatened to tear the whole mission apart. Today, Emilia would nip it at the bud. They had a job to do, and couldn't afford to be distracted.

Emilia triple-checked her equipment. NV Goggles? Check. DC-17? Check, Radio? Check. Obsessively, she readjusted her timepiece, watching the minutes tick by. Finally, she slipped into the loose fitting, grey jumpsuit used by the palace's janitorial staff, making sure to cover the black clothes she wore underneath. After she was dressed, she stowed her blaster, her communicator, and most importantly, the bugs, in a carry bag, that she slung over her shoulder.

Gently, the shuttle touched down in a clearing in a grove of trees about 3 kilometers from the Theed Palace. Emilia turned to the agents inside the shuttle. "Alright, it's go time people. Dresden, Lancer, and Zmej, you're heading with me to the Palace along with the rest of the team. Major, you'll keep an eye on us from the shuttle. All the necessary equipment has been provided to you. Give them hell."

She spun on her heel and faced the door. Hauling it open and stepping into the crisp night air, watching the grass ripple away from the shuttle. She walked forward with purpose, making her way down the hill to the road that lead to their objective. The mission had begun.

​

OOC info:

Spoiler

This thread is open to anyone who wishes to participate.
Planning thread

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[member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Lancer Damar"]​

 

[The Major]

The trip down to the surface was mostly uneventful, as it should be when secrecy was key. The Major spent a major part of the trip working with Mr. V on a few modifications for his load out. Truly, for the sake of the palace guards, she hoped that he didn't need to use a lick of the gear. Time would tell. The rest of the journey was spent chatting with [member="Emilia Ravel"] whenever possible. She offered words of encouragement and generally tried to keep her morale up, hoping that a boost of support would reinforce her fighting spirit as much as possible. Once they landed, she handed each operative three holo-net enabled tech storage chips. These were tapped directly to the suite she would work on while in the shuttle. A flurry of specific programs had been prepared in advance, ranging from false friend-or-foe tags, to alarm activators and deactivators. One particularly handy one was an encryption that produced a fake electronic signature: useful if they were compromised and the retreating agents had to leave a false trail. Best of all, these chips were completely plain looking, were purchased from third party manufacturers, and had nothing on them that could be incriminating. As long as the team maintained radio contact with this shuttle they would work. Maybe they might get to try the localized blackout program. That could be fun.

Now the Major sat at her station and began tinkering with a few encryptions, her gaze continuously shifting to those exiting in case they had any final comments or questions.

[member="Jamie Pyne"] [member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Lancer Damar"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Kiyron]

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to Naboo, or why, but at least he knew it wasn't for a funeral. Certainly not for his oldest friend. A dull ache settled into his chest as his boots echoed on the rain-slicked cobbles, bouncing off the stone hallways around him.

He was here for two weeks of leave, his kit safely stowed in a trunk in the apartment where he was staying. Moonlight glinted off a rain puddle, casting deep shadows of the surrounding buildings. They looked over him, like jaws of a great beast snapping shut on their prey.

Kiyron spat and kicked the puddle, hurrying off. The woods weren't far away. He needed to get out, find a quiet place. Work through all the memories of Kaiden that cling to his mind at all hours.

He spun on his heel and headed up the hillside to the trees. Like his old perch, it was up above everything and quiet. Maybe he could see the stars from there. Hands buried in his pockets, his pace quickened, head thrust forward as the buildings sped by. A few people were still out, but he passed them by, assessing them from the corner of his eye. Not even something he was conscious about anymore. It just happened. That woman had been a soldier once, judging by her posture. The man had done many years of manual labor. That one was an undercover security agent. Kiyron didn't acknowledge them, but continued.

There were no threats tonight. It was quiet. Peaceful. In the distance, a dark shape descended over by his destination. He glared at it. How dare they disturb his refuge? Tonight of all nights, even. He let out his breath and his shoulders slumped, but continued onwards. They wouldn't see him, if he was careful. No need to socialize this evening.

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Night had just fallen. The moon was high on the horizon, cresting just above the treeline and leaving in its wake a warm glow atop the city streets, upon which patrols of Theed's police force vigilantly watched. From watchtowers around the palace the RSF maintained their posts. The Eternal Flame within Livet Tower stood as a beacon from across the city, opposite the palace. The palace itself lay silent, save for the soft echoes of boots tapping in unison as the elite guard made their rounds, each squad accompanied by a vetted and trained Jedi Knight. Somewhere within Queen Pyne and her handmaidens dwell. The recent escalation and negotiations with the First Order had seen to many long nights as of late. Documents, policies, and protocol required extensive review. Coupled with the intelligence acquired through various channels regarding a certain Sith empire that had recently risen and subsequently fallen over the past months, Jamie was certain the Sith known as Vrak Nashar was still out there, and he very likely still sought vengeance against her for his previous incarceration. That meant ensuring that not only she was safe from such retaliation, but the city and its people as well.

All ships entering Naboo space had to pass through Quarsh Customs Satellites, and were therefore subject to deep scans upon entry prior to being assigned an authorized landing zone. Those who chose to evade such scans were tracked to the surface, arrested, and investigated by TPCU. As the shuttle proceeded to the surface, the diversion away from both the customs satellite path as well as the starport would rapidly garner the attention of Theed's Planetary Defense by way of point to point encrypted communication. Several minutes later that transmission had been relayed to the officer in command. For the time being the palace would remain as it had, with TPCU and RSF maintaining vigilance through both camera surveillance and increased patrols. A single police detachment of two officers would be assigned to inspect the shuttle that had landed on the outskirts of the city. Given the ambiguity of the shuttle, it was likely a smuggling operation, worthy of a fine and confiscation and little more.

A knock on the queen's chamber door drew the girl's focus from the datapad in her hand to the large man now in her doorway. "My lady, an unauthorized vessel has touched down on the outskirts of the city. We do not believe it to be at this time anything more than a smuggling operation, however we felt it appropriate to notify you. RSF and TPCU have adjusted security appropriately, and our surveillance teams have tightened sweeps throughout. We're sending a detachment to inspect the shuttle as well." The young queen offered the veteran a nod. "Thank you, commander. Please ensure all communications sent are transmitted over the rolling encryption channel." The man returned the nod and turned, leaving Jamie alone with one other woman who sat close by, draped in a maroon colored gown, face obscured by the hood.

[member="Kiyron"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Aela Talith"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Kiyron"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Adder"]

"Would you please hurry up?" Aela said as she tromped through the city streets of Theed, another woman walking right besides her.

There was a bit of annoyance on her face, mostly because it had taken forever for customs to clear them from leaving the starport. Unlike the other guests on Naboo this night she and Adder had come here the proper way. The two women, or rather Aela, had borrowed a shuttle from the Jedi Order and taken it to Naboo. It had been at Aela's insistence that Adder had come along, partly because Aela herself couldn't pilot a ship and partly because she'd wanted her two friends to meet one another.

Aela's stockpile of friends was a rather miniscule one, in fact she could basically count on one hand the people she considered friends who weren't in her immediate family. Adder, Jacen, and Jamie. The list was very very short, depressingly so, but she intended to make it a bit larger by at least introducing them to one another. Adder had already met Jacen on one of their previous missions and of course Jacen knew Jamie, so now it was time for Adder to meet Jamie.

It seemed to be the perfect day for it too, the air was warm and the night pleasant. "The Palace is just up ahead and I'm not going to drag you up the entire way."

She swore that Adder really needed to do more cardio, perhaps she would suggest it after this little trip. After a few more moments they approached one of the Palace gates, the guards besides the door perking up almost immediately and signalling the two women to halt. Aela frowned for a moment but then began to speak.

"My name is Jedi Master Aela Talith, I'm here to see Queen Jamie Pyne." She paused for a second. "I have important business from the New Jedi Order."

A complete lie, but they didn't need to know that. Before the guards could even ask Aela pulled out her identification, offering it to the men preemptively. "This is my trusty Pilot, Adder."

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

Dresden sighed wearily as the shuttle touched down.

He just knew this op was going to go wrong in a big way. He ​knew ​it, deep down in his soul.

It wasn't like he was Force sensitive or anything, far from it. This was instinct borne out of long, long experience. Dresden had been in more hairy situations than at ten normal agents, and he'd been fighting his way through them since he was still a teenager. He survived situations where older, wiser men had been turned into chunks of slowly cooling meat by virtue of paying very, very careful attention to his instincts.

As his old mentor had tried to drum into his head, instinct wasn't anything mystical, not for normal folks like them. It was the careful gathering of clues by the subconscious mind, assembling them under the surface where the conscious mind couldn't reach. Most people, people whose lives were peaceful, bereft of struggle and violence, ignored those instincts. Dresden had honed them to a razor's edge.

It was those instincts that had kept him alive when better men had died. And they were screaming at him now.

At the last minute, Dresden had opted not to go with the main force, the one set on breaking into the palace. Not out of any sort of cowardice, far from it. Dresden was the only heavy ordinance expert on the team, the only one who had anything like a clue about how to set up a proper defensive position. The team would, necessarily, be running light. Their best toys would have to stay on the shuttle if they wanted to travel through the city unnoticed. So, naturally, he wanted to be close to them. If they were needed, they'd be needed quickly.

While the rest of the team headed into the city, the former mercenary walked around the shuttle at a leisurely pace. Every now and again, he'd reach into a satchel, pull out a handful of something, and pop it into his mouth. There wasn't anything in the satchel but sunflower seeds, and a lot of them. Since the smoking light was most definitely out, he couldn't light up a cigarette, and he found alternative methods of nicotine intake disgusting. Chewing tobacco in particular bothered him. It wasn't the taste, it was the spit. The very sight of a spit cup made him nauseous.

The sunflower seeds weren't nearly as good as a cigarette, but they kept the nagging little pressure at the back of his mind, the incipient craving, at bay. And so, he'd pop a few into his mouth, work them out of their hulls, and then spit the hulls out. Rinse and repeat.

It was a perfectly innocuous action, the work of a smuggler trying to keep busy. A blaster pistol hung at his side, nothing fancy.

Meanwhile, through the grass, tiny mechanical devices slithered slowly into position.

They weren't proper droids, not by a long shot. Rather, they were simple machines: four wheels, an electric motor, and a power source. When the power source ran dry, they would stop moving. They had various levels of charge, enough to move them at intervals anywhere between twenty to a hundred meters away from the shuttle. And with them, they carried small explosive devices.

They weren't mines, not proper ones. They were set to go off in the event that a very particular frequency was triggered from a remote secured to the inside of Dresden's wrist. Thank you, Miss S.

The explosives were simple affairs. Gunpowder, proper gunpowder, in thin metal tubes. Around each tube were nails, taped into place. They would make for an effective anti-personnel device, low tech enough to avoid detection, powerful enough to put down a man without armor. There were about thirty of the diminutive pipe bombs spread throughout the field surrounding the ship.

Dresden wasn't going to set them off if a patrol came through. he w as going to set them off if the patrol couldn't be convinced they were normal smugglers.

Easy, right?

[member="Aela Talith"] [member="Jamie Pyne"] @Kiyron @The Major [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

The RSF captain was taking his sweet time. Isabella was standing behind one of the many checkpoints into Theed palace. She had resorted to whistling idly and fiddling with the buttons on her uniform before the officer finally showed up. He approached the woman with a wary look in his eye.

"Papers, please" he said. Isabella handed over her identification and watched as the older man frowned at the document. "Ahhhh you're from the SIS, we've been waiting for you". He paused for a minute, as if carefully considering what he'd say next. "I didn't expect the agent to be..." he trailed off. "A Chiss?" Isabella suggested. "A First Order defector" the captain said bluntly. Isabella scowled, the man had done his research.

"If you know that, then you also know I've been thoroughly vetted by the SIS and have passed multiple examinations. My documents are up to date and I am unarmed. Why should I not be allowed to enter the palace?" Her patience was running thin, she had lots of work to do and wasn't in the mood to get tied up in red tape.

The captain's mouth settled into a hard line. "Look, tensions are high with the First Order right now, I don't think it is the best idea from you to go walking around the-" "Captain" she interrupted "Do you know why I am here?" His mouth opened to speak but closed as he sensed the trap.

"I'm here" she continued. "To investigate a security breach from the Festival of Glad Arrival. A man not only bypassed security using an expired SIS security card" she put a lot of emphasis on the word 'expired'. "But also managed to climb a nearby roof undetected by nearby RSF". She folded her arms. "Maybe you should be thankful that it was only Kurt Meyer and not an assassin, otherwise I doubt you'd be here to have this conversation, captain".

The captain winced at her barbed comments and sighed. "Very well, you're clear to enter". He signaled to a few guards and she was escorted into the palace proper. She needed to ask a few questions so she asked her escort to take her to the guards on duty during the festival.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Adder]

This was a nightmare. She hadn’t managed to sneak her flask onboard the shuttle – Aela had basically ambushed her with this trip. It was almost like the blonde knew Adder would find some excuse not to go if she’d given her more warning.

Clearly, this was a carefully planned trap.

The cop stared daggers at the Jedi’s back, feeling betrayed and touched at the same time. The girl wanted her to meet her last friend. (She had three.) But that friend was also the fething Queen of Naboo, Aela.

No matter how much she dragged her desperate feet, they still reached the palace fairly quick. Woe is me. Adder looked like she was going to puke sometime soon, she knew it. It was why the guards were looking at her that funny. She even felt green.

Force, this was such a bad idea. A Queen! Her skin crawled. Her palms were sweaty. Get yer shet together, a voice snapped in the back of her head. She was going on forty, no way around it. She got this.

But then they walked inside and she was blinded by the glamor and polish and I so don’t got this was the only thing going through her mind. A tapestry they passed probably cost as much as she earned in a year. She didn’t even wanna guess the pricetag on those shiny chandeliers. Things were probably million-carat diamonds.

“I got you here, didn’t I? I can still go?” she offered in a weak voice, glancing around for an opportune door to make a hasty exit.

[member="Kiyron"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Aela Talith"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Every time they passed someone her heart did a somersault, without fail. They passed a young couple out on an evening stroll and she stiffened. They received a sidelong glance from an old man watering his plants, and she had to fight to stop her hand reaching for her blaster. As they walked towards the objective she tried to calm herself, breathing deeply, reducing her heart-rate. Finally, she relaxed, the night was cool, the mood calm. There was nothing that even hinted that they'd been discovered, so she allowed herself to breathe, to focus on the next step of the mission, and of course, that's when she saw them.

Two RSF officers, in uniform. Jogging in the direction they had come from. She ducked into a door-frame, signalling the others to do the same, and swearing profusely under her breath. Still muttering curses, she whipped out her radio, attaching the earpiece and turning it on. "Dresden, Major, two RSF on the way to you, be alert." With that done, she doubled her pace, moving as fast as she dared towards the palace. In her chest, a heavy weight pressed down upon her, and she felt as if time was suddenly growing very short.

"Hurry!" she said sharply to the others, her eyes flitting up and down the street. She moved into the shadow of the trees by the side of the road, where they would be less noticeable. When she turned into a small alleyway, only a few hundred metres away from the palace. She found her mind wandering. For some reason, despite her best efforts, images of her childhood on Corellia kept swimming into her memory. Dimly, she recalled sunlit weekends, a trip to the museum, her first time on a speeder. Mostly random moments, the rest lost to time. One memory, however, remained vivid. Like a lightning bolt that shot across her mind. The imposing figure of a First Order recruiter, once of many that often came knocking on doors in the poorer parts of Corellia. She recalled the way the sunlight had reflected off his fair hair, giving him a sort of halo effect. He couldn't have been much older than she was now. She remembered his strong hands as they carried her away from her home. The most haunting image, the one that popped up the most in her nightmares, was her mother, turning and shutting the door, without so much as a look back.

Emilia shook her head violently. This was no time for reminiscing, was she stupid? It was time to focus. Slowly, she crept forward, until the Theed Palace was in view, lit up like a tree on Life Day. She surveyed the defenses, biting her lip as she did so. This wasn't good. Security was even tighter than it had been a week ago. There were guards in the towers, and security forces at the gate were double her largest estimate. They would have to find another, slightly more unorthodox way in. Emilia picked up her radio again. "Dresden, Major, do you read? I'm gonna need your help for this."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Isabella Fonti"] | [member="Adder"] | [member="Lancer Damar"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie glanced down at the small band around her wrist. She felt her nearby. But why? For a spell she lingered, setting the datapad down onto the desk. It seemed strange that Aela would have left Wroosti so soon to return once again to Naboo without something important to share. The girl stood from behind the desk and made her way towards the door, turning back with her hand resting on the handle. "I'll be a moment. It seems I have an unexpected visitor." Her handmaiden nodded her obscured head. The heavy door then croaked in protest as it was drawn open, a faint light penetrating the massive transparisteel windows above. Marble floor underfoot practically sparkled against the moon glow, and the echoes of soft clicking rang throughout the ambient corridor as the queen hustled towards the person she knew to be nearby. Several observed her majesty as Jamie made for the main lobby, awkward and confused glances shared between one another as she escaped their view a heartbeat later.

Turning from one hall to the next the blonde eventually came to find Aela walking beside an unfamiliar face towards her. Stopping in her stride she folded her hands beneath her arms and looked in a peculiar fashion at the two. The one she did not recognize was certainly one to stand out, head shaved and in the place of hair, tattoos. It was certainly unique if not unforgettable. Aela's familiar face set a small smile on Jamie, though the question still remained. "I knew I felt you nearby." She called, "What are you doing here?" Gentle accented voice carried in a slight echo throughout, trailing off only a breath later. "Weren't you supposed to be on Wroosti teaching younglings?" Letting her hands fall from their position Jamie closed the small distance between the two, and, knowing full well Aela's aversion to physical contact, hugged her. "And I see you brought company, or you suckered someone into flying you here." Breaking away from Aela Jamie extended her hand and flashed a polite smile. "I'm Jamie."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Isabella Fonti"] | [member="Adder"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Kiyron"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Adder"]

"Shhh." She told Adder as she felt the small pang in the bracelet that told her Jamie was approaching. She wasn't really much for sensing people within the force, but the the artifacts that she and her padawan wore allowed the two women to feel one anothers presence. It was a helpful thing that had saved Jamie's life more than once. Of course there had also been some...awkward moments because of it but still, it was handy.

She turned just in time to see Jamie approaching. "I didn't drag her here."

Aela completely had, but it was a fact that she would ignore as Jamie suddenly enveloped her in an embrace. She grumbled for a few seconds and then returned the hug, patting Jamie on the back once or twice before gently pulling herself away from the Queen of Naboo.

"This is Adder." Aela began to explain before the other woman could speak up. "She's my friend and I thought it would be nice to introduce you."

Jamie would of course know that Aela wasn't exactly the most sociable person, it was something that she often teased the Jedi Master about. Still, Aela had known Adder before she'd even met Jamie and that counted for something at the very least. "She's a pilot and used to be a part of Coresec."

 

[Zmej Ren]

Crammed in a small shuttle alongside the rest of the team, the only participating Ren sighed. Everyone else was nervous, applying last minute touches to their makeover or going through the plan again. Not Zmej. Whether the woman meditated with both eyes open or simply sat motionless, spying on everyone else, none could say. Her unnerving glare certainly liked to haunt the crew, although looking for signs of amusement in her expression would be futile. Soon enough, she’d breathe the fresh Naboo air and walk the Alliance streets.

The imminent landing had prompted her into checking her gear as well, pleased at how she had managed to conceal the menacingly-shaped lightsaber beneath the tunic. Light and sleek, the black cylinder comfortably rested within her sleeve, patiently waiting for its master’s telekinetic summons. Soon, soon. After the ship touched the ground and Zmej accepted the last piece of equipment she needed for the mission, the blonde Ren followed after the others, scarf masking her features as she exited the ship.

Surprisingly tranquil tonight, the fair-haired Hand of Sieger Ren by no means resembled the perpetually fuming knight she usually was. Calm and laid back, displaying no signs of the infinite rage burning within, she was practically a whole new person. Her appearance reflected that as well. Lacking both armour and visible weaponry, she sported simple robes black as night and wore her hair unfixed, letting the blonde locks cascade down her shoulders. Even the eyes lost their usual yellowish hue, although a good enough spectator wouldn’t miss the now steel grey gaze still possessed that predatory, inquisitive quality.

That, and upon comparing her state to that of her fellow ‘Sith’ agents, the utter lack of fear became somewhat apparent – though that was just her sensing their uneasiness through the Force. Zmej’s own aura has been shrouded to the best of her abilities, and while unable to silence it completely, the young knight did manage to extinguish the cold darkness radiating off her form.

All in all, Zmej Ren had ceased to exist, replaced by a Sith acolyte known as Eshtaol.

And just like a proper Sith, she had zero intention of following the plan’s original goal. Planting bugs all over Pyne’s palace would be good only until the first sweep. No, Zmej – Eshtaol – wished for something more permanent. Killing the celebrity queen was just that. She wouldn’t go out of her way to purposely sabotage the original intent and sink the whole operation, but she knew better than to expect everything to go smoothly. In fact, the plan was practically destined to fail. Still, if she played her cards right, even failure had potential to benefit the First Order and Sieger’s interests.

Silent like a snake, she crept towards the palace, picking shadows as temporary companions. She felt naked without armour, vulnerable. Before the insecurity had a chance to grow into fear, she suffocated the thought. Fully focused on spying on the security, the acolyte's grey eyes silently studied them for patterns, looking for a crack to exploit. Two guards, isolated from others and relieving themselves in privacy offered just that. Glancing towards Emilia for approval, Zmej drew a combat knife.



[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] [member="The Major"]

 

[Kiyron]

Kiyron stepped to the side of the street, leaning against a doorway as two RSF security officers hurried past. They have him a look and he showed his GADF ID card. They nodded and hurried on. He frowned and stayed there, watching as they passed. No use trying to get up to that grove of trees. It would be busy up there.

A small group of cleaning staff passed by from the same direction, ducking towards an alley. Kiyron gave them a brief nod as they passed, by something seemed off. He stepped away from the wall and ambled in their direction, stepping lightly as to keep the boots from making anymore noise on the ground.

Palace cleaning staff shouldn't be out walking silently at night and hugging the shadows. From what he'd seen, that was nearly the opposite of what they did. Kiyron pushed before he reached the alleyway and checked his gear. Just the comlink, MT-14 blaster pistol, and a vibroknife. Hardly what he wanted for a combat operation, but hopefully it wouldn't reach that level.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the alley, eye catching a glint of moonlight on a knife blade. Blast. That had escalated quickly, especially given that he could make out the palace not far away.

Would he never get a vacation? He'd have to file a report now and a debriefing and local security would be involved. They owed him two extra weeks on leave after this. Hopefully somewhere actually away from politics and espionage.

"Evening there!" He called out to the people in the alley, slurring his words a bit to sound a bit buzzed. "Beautiful night for a walk, isn't it?" His words echoed off the alley walls and he stumbled into one of them. "Street's a bit..." He fluttered his fingers, servos humming softly as he mechanical limbs twitched, as if trying to capture a word. "Not flat, isn't it?" He looked up and down the alleyway. "Or is it flat? Can't see too well in the dark. Anyone got a light on them? Got some death sticks to share. Better to smoke with new friends, I always say."

His one hand settled in his pocket, grabbing the comlink. He didn't have anything to report yet, but depending on what happened next, he might.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Inquisitor, this is Chimera."

That annoying buzz in his ear meant one thing. Someone was up to no good. It was the 'who' rather than the 'how' or 'why' that concerned him just then.

Locking the datapad he'd been reading from, he sighed, sitting back in his chair, turning it to face out the window of the office he kept in Theed. He wasn't the Lord Protector anymore, but he'd learned from the invasion by the Feds that he should be close to Theed at all times.

Everyone always attacked Theed.

"Chimera, Inquisitor. Go ahead."

He listened for a moment, then blinked, looking around his room. "Force-forsaken loons." He mutters, standing up and leaving the office, locking it behind him. An armory was somewhere nearby. "Orders, Inquisitor?"

"Figure out what they want."

"Wilco."

Stupid Jedi. Always showing up to visit friends, or just put themselves into situations they knew would turn ugly. He wasn't sure which this was, and he was going to find out. Because those were the only two reasons for a Jedi to be here - trouble, or friendship. Why did it have to be the two extremes?

Furthermore, why did he have to be so paranoid?

Whatever. He'd get his armor and guns, and go figure out what the hell was up.

[member="Jamie Pyne"] [member="Aela Talith"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

So much was already going wrong for them, she was hardly surprised when the voice came from back behind them in the alley, interrupting Emilia as she was about to lecture the Ren on the concept of subtlety. She froze, and motioned for her operatives to let her do the talking, then leaned over and whispered to [member="Zmej Ren"]. "If something goes wrong here, I'm trusting you to help me deal with it." Without waiting for a response she spun on her heel, and stepped towards the silhouette of the man in the alley. Her footsteps echoed dully in the alley. She stepped into a patch of moonlight, which briefly lit up her red hair and pale skin, before she'd moved again into the shadows. When she was a few paces from the man, her eyes passed up and down the length of him, trying to gauge the threat level. She spoke softly. "It's a lovely night, to be sure. But we're on our way to the palace, and we're already late for our shift." She motioned down the alley towards the palace. "Looks like someone important just got here, so we're waiting until they've gone in, so as not to cause a scene, you know?"

Despite seeming intoxicated, the man's eyes were clear and calculating. She also noticed the man had one of his hand's in his pocket, and alarm bells immediately went off in her head. Either they were about to be mugged, or he knew something was up. Either way this guy was going to be a problem. Reaching slowly into her own pocket, she switched on her comms, so that the agents at the shuttle would hear the quiet conversation with this suspicious man. Then, she continued to rummage around, eventually producing a small lighter. She flicked it and held it out innocently to the man. The light of the small flame sent faint shadows dancing around the alley. Outwardly, Emilia maintained a calm, almost bored expression, but the tension in the air was palpable. Behind her, the agents watched the encounter, waiting for something to happen.

[member="The Major"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Isabella Fonti"] | [member="Adder"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Lancer Damar"]​

 

[The Major]

"Stash your gear and my rifle, keep a hidden weapon ready, and follow my lead."

There definitely was an authoritative hiss to the Major's commands, even though [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] technically out ranked her by a few magnitudes within the Security Bureau. Blame it on the sudden spike of adrenaline from the commanding officer's warning: RSF on the way. Focus sharpens, and the hairs on her pale neck bristled as heat flooded into her extremities. A flurry of movements happen in the space of a few moments:

• a needle primed and ready with a sinister colored fluid is tucked beneath her left sleeve
• a three inch dagger without a guard is stowed in her right sleeve
• she punches a few keys on at her workstation resulting in a small spike of bandwidth and the suite shutting down

A rather moribund looking woman when concentrating, she begins to call upon her expertise as a Fallanassi to produce a number of illusions to aide in the subterfuge. Two screens within the shuttle flicker on. One was playing synthed up pop music product. The other was a holonews cast on tabloids referring to the Queen, [member="Jamie Pyne"]. Both appeared to be pretty trashy, but they added to the noise. Suddenly, Dresden was wearing coveralls with the label of a "reputable" news studio. She also handed him her datapad, which was generally in vogue to use as a recording device when reporters were on the field these days. Her outfit had also changed from a dark, respectable, utilitarian suit and tie into the sort of tacky, bright thing you'd see a news anchor personality wear on the evening shift.

With a deep, reaffirming breath, she was one with the cosmos.

The Major opens the door to greet the officers, no visible form of self-defense on hand. She asks a question, the tone and pitch of her voice matching her new look.

"Hi-ya, fellas! I'm Rosana Winters -I'm sure you've heard of me- what can I do ya for?"

It was the perfect octave for a fake, brown-nosing, rabble rousing, nosey reporter.

A look of the shuttle and it's compartments would reveal nothing of alarm unless of course it was disassembled. It would look like the kind of place someone with a huge, ego-centric personality would inhabit. If things went wrongly here, the Major was confident Dresden would quickly and hopefully silently kill these interlopers. That would be tragic, since she was one to prefer no bloodshed over this mission. That's this particular mission. Meanwhile, before shutting down her suite, she had spent two of the data-chips for [member="Emilia Ravel"]. One was a program to locally disable any communication devices via wireless interference, but the range was only about 20 meters. The other she had picked at random, a result of rushing to meet the guards as to not cause suspicion. Hopefully that would help.

She found herself hoping a lot right now. Unfitting for an agent, really.

Spoiler

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Kiyron"] [member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Kiyron"] [member="Adder"] [member="Isabella Fonti"] [member="Aela Talith"]

 

[Adder]

[member="Kiyron"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Lancer Damar"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Jamie Pyne"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Isabella Fonti"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]


“You totally did,” Adder hissed back at Aela before wrangling a nervous smile into place. Maybe. No promises it wouldn’t flee right off her features at the worst possible moment.

Her cheek muscles twitched. She almost prayed for something to happen, anything, just that this meeting would come to a swift end. Sweaty hands. Of course.

Lamenting her fate despite the grin screwed onto her face, Adder clasped Jamie’s proffered palm. It was a too-brief, hasty handshake – the redhead couldn’t wait to snatch her hand back. “Hi,” she managed to squeak out, an octave higher than her usual voice.

This was mortifying. She’d rather be dogfighting a whole TIE squadron, alone, than rubbing shoulders with a queen.

 

[Luther Lewis]

Isabella let out deep sigh and leaned heavily against the palace wall. She didn't like acting tough, but she knew when it was necessary. She had spent a good deal of time grilling the RSF that were responsible for letting Kurt Meyer in. The captain she met earlier had waited outside the room and approached her now. "Well?" he asked, a little too roughly for her liking. Isabella tilted her head to one side. "I'm satisfied with their explanations” she responded. “And why they let Meyer in. The SIS will contact [member="Jamie Pyne"] and she will decide whether they keep their positions" The Captain's shoulders slumped in relief, like he expected that answer. "Very well. If all is done, I will escort you to your ship" She interrupted him. "All is not done, I'll need to review the tapes of the event and ensure the current security is up to standard." She swore she could hear the captain grinding his teeth. "If you insist" he said shortly. "Follow me".

He led with a brisk pace taking multiple twists and turns down long hallways. She saw a lot of people: staff, guests, other RSF. She even thought she might have glimpsed the Queen herself, talking to two guests. She didn't stop to check, however, and jogged a short distance to catch up with the captain. "I'm sensing some animosity from you, Captain, care to explain?" The man stopped in the hallway and turned, a look of disgust on his face. "This inspection is a joke. You think we haven't had hundreds of audits because of that incident? I think it reflects poorly on the Alliance that they won't trust us to fix our mistakes".

Isabella frowned deeply, her mouth forming into a hard line. He was taller than her, yet recoiled as she thrust her head towards him. "You don't choose your mistakes, Captain" she said, her words dripping with venom. "And you certainly don't choose when you get to make them. Do you want to know why the Galactic Alliance sent a defected agent instead of some two-bit desk jockey?" Her red eyes glinted off the overhead light. The captain started to sweat. "Because I've been your enemy. I know how to crack the shell that is Theed Palace. It's something I can see you don't understand. You love the palace, you love the Queen. You want to protect it all. But to understand how to truly protect something, you first must understand how to destroy it. You've never hated Naboo, so how could you ever understand the motive of someone who would see it burn?"

She had been shouting in his face, standing on the tips of her toes. The captain's face was white as snow, his expression frozen between shock and distrust. She sighed. Maybe she'd gone a bit overboard there. The poor captain couldn't handle it. "Protecting lives isn't a game of Dejarik, Captain. Let's continue".

She opted not to review the tapes from the Festival, instead uploading them to a portable drive so she could review them later. "Run me through the defenses, Captain" she said, her eyes affixed to the screen.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Dresden Verbrennung"] | [member="Adder"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Lancer Damar"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

He took the elevator into the basement, which he'd long since converted into an armory. A simple gantry sat at the far end, armor held by small droid arms that descended like spider legs from the ceiling above. Near where the right hand would be sat a wall of weapons, and he strode to the far end of the room and up a short ramp. Turning back towards the door, he set his legs into the grooves in the circular metal beneath him. His arms raised, spreading to their full wingspan, and as the first pieces of armor pressed to his skin, he heard the earpiece crackle.

"No moon shines tonight." Came the voice.

"Is the darkness enveloping?"

"Almost completely. The mountains are lost from view."

Sarge sighs, the whir of servos drowning out the crackle in his ear for a moment as more pieces were fitted. Before long, the circle rose, and his legs were armored, extending his height another foot and a half. "And no clouds lay on the horizon?"

"No lightning in sight, my Lord."

The frown deepened. "I don't like this."

"...neither do I, Lord."

Drawing in a deep breath, his world goes black as the helmet is fitted into view. There's a hiss as the armor seals, and he huffs before the hum of his backpack power generator sends brilliant energy coursing through the thick cabling layered beneath his armor. Retinal displays flash into view, and as the circle drops once more, he steps out, watching his hands reach for the bolter on the wall as if from a helm-cam feed. The moment his hands make contact, an ammunition display pops into view, and the scope calibrates before disappear at a blink command.

"How many Fangs do we have in city?"

"Two, Lord."

"Two will do. Mobilize them. Have them meet me at the palace."

"...are you sure that's wise?"

"Not at all, but, as a famous poet once said, the woods are lovely, dark, and deep."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"The appearance of peace hides the reality of violence."

"He wrote a poem about that?"

"Of course not. It was about life, and appreciating it before you die."

"...right. They're mounting up now. Should they enter once they arrive?" Sarge considered that as he made for the freight elevator, stepping in before hitting the button that would take him to rooftop level. "No. Have them park nearby. Are they in their speeders?" Their speeders were disguised in all manner of ways, but most opted for simply a covered passenger speeder. Thousands of those on the streets.

"Aye. Standard concealment protocols?"

A blink command send an affirmative back, and he stepped out into the evening light to look across the city at the palace, where [member="Jamie Pyne"], [member="Adder"], and [member="Aela Talith"] awaited.

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

Dresden had been on the receiving end of [member="The Major"]'s illusions before, and it was still unnerving as hell. There wasn't a dramatic shimmer or anything as what was real became what wasn't. One minute, they were a pair of ne'er-do-wells. The next, a shockingly cheerful reporter and her pet thug/cameraman. It wasn't the physical illusion that impressed him, however. She had explained, in layman's terms, how it worked, and he had yet to spot the difference between one of her illusions and reality. It was seamless, and the attention to detail simply staggering.

What really impressed him, however, was her performances when she dipped into the White Current, whatever that was. Changing her appearance was one thing. Completely becoming someone else, quite another. For a brief moment, Miss S wasn't simply pretending to be someone else, she was​ someone else. It was as if she created a new personality and overlaid it on top of the original, and it was among the top three or four scarier things he'd seen in his long and storied career. If she ever set her mind to it, Miss S could be a holy terror the likes of which the galaxy had never seen.

He wasn't that skilled, so, as per their planning sessions, the role she chose for him was one that he could easily adopt without much actual acting. Dresden scowled, and wielded the recording device, which actually was a recording device, albeit not quite as fancy as the one his eyes told him he held, with something approaching gleeful menace. It was a role that anyone who'd ever been on the wrong end of a camera knew, and feared, because his job was to make the subjects as uncomfortable as possible, to catch them off guard and record any slip ups they might make as the oppressively cheerful reporter bludgeoned them with questions they knew better than to answer.

And so, he didn't simply record the two patrolmen, he loomed over them, close enough to invade their personal space, but not so close as to be construed as a threat to their person. He made sure to spotlight them with the camera's brilliantly bright recording light, shining the beam in their faces, a cruel leer twisting his face. He knew what he was doing to them, having been in their shoes before, and he reveled in their discomfort.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Jamie Pyne"]