Creds to spare for some sort of discreet mission? Yarva was good at keeping his mouth shut, and when word had reached the Shadowport about transporting special cargo, he had instantly begun putting together the idea of mooching a little something of the top without anyone noticing.
Over his shoulder from the cockpit, he could see a few of his special cargo sat back amongst each other.
“Shoulda figured,” Yarva muttered aloud to himself. When a person known as ‘Snake’ has a job for you, you ought to know that it wouldn’t be no regular work. Though, the living and breathing cargo that he was delivering seemed nice enough. Not that he had spoken to any of them. It was more of the training his mother had instilled in him growing up, rather than his time as a pirate that warned him to be cautious of making connections. Especially with people who he had no actual intention of getting back in contact with.
Not that he was afraid of danger, Yarva often found himself gravitating towards it in a way that many would consider unhealthy.
A voice came over the commline.
Typical spaceport procedure.
Already below the atmosphere, the Crimson Star, breached through the cloud cover. Leaving the vessel on autopilot, he tugged his jacket off from its place lounging on the back of his chair, and fit his arms through the sleeves. Stepping out of the cockpit, he shoved his thumbs into the pockets of his jacket. “You uh, ‘traders’ ready? We’ll be landing in a couple minutes.” A quick look was given to the group.
They didn’t exactly look the part of merchants, but who was he to judge? After what he had heard about Helgard just from initial scans, it was frozen. And if it wasn’t ice, it was mountains. And if it wasn’t ice and mountains, it was immense cities that looked rougher than the world they were carved out of. If people were wanting to come here? They ought to at least look like tough karkers.
Ending his cursory glance, he found Djorn Bline
, who hired him and gave him an upwards nod. Giving a glance over his shoulder to the cockpit and the viewport beyond, he saw that the automated landing systems were bringing them down into their own private hangar.
Good money for a good cause. A cause organized by the minds of Jaeger and Djorn, the latter taking point in overseeing this operation would run smoothly and efficiently. Besides he wasn’t one to exactly stay behind a desk and have his subordinates do the dirty work. Everything had to go all according to plan with no slip ups. Even with their loss at Dantooine there wasn’t any rest for those flying the colors of the Iron Sun. If anything, it made them more focused and driven with a zeal of determination from their emotions. The Galaxy united, save for those of the Starbird and the First Order, against them; standing with a nation known for its countless atrocities. It only showed the decadence of the Jedi and Sith, only wanting to be above of those they command.
“We’re more than ready, Vex. Don’t worry about us, that’s my job to handle,” he replied back to the smuggler with indifference in his voice. He didn’t need someone of his background to make sure he was ready. It would be foolish to come all this way and be ill prepared.
And it was ill advised to ask that question to the personnel of Mandalorian Warriors attached to his special operations team for this assignment.
A small team of Imperials and Mandalorians. They’d make this work, no matter what. Different ideals they valued and aligned with, but defiance is what kept brought them together.
The automation computer of the transport kicked in and descended down into the private hangar reserved for them. He had no armor, only a bodyglove underneath the layers of clothes that somewhat sold off his disguise as a merchant. Probably just him and his Imperial comrades. The Mandalorians? No point in telling them what to wear. They were their own autonomous unit with the same assignment as Djorn.
“We’ll make the best happen,” he said to himself, knowing too well that one couldn’t sit around and hope for the best. They had to fight for it and make it happen.
The familiar soft thud was heard, and the loading ramp opened with air hissing.
“Let’s get this going. Try to be discreet as possible. We’ll light up the fireworks later.”
The sounds of the YT-1760 Transport's engines were quite a familiarity. One that struck the former captain with a hint of nostalgia, for it had been long since he had been tasked on a deployment. A short glance into the cavity under his seat and a wide bag slid out with his grasp. The straps on his bodyglove were adjusted with a stronger pull applied to them. As there were additional clothes that were going to be needed, the average temperature within the ship will be missed once the Crew steps off to the frozen planet. Anden rose from his chair, sliding the Glie-50 sidearm onto its holster before overlapping the torso portion of his bodyglove with a somewhat thick coat. The suit was fully concealed under the layer of clothing and looked much like some backwater merchant with a sense of fashion. He blended much like the other imperials with him. As for the Mandalorians? He chose not to pay much mind to them, despite his previous encounters with individuals from their culture. The now-imperial had orders to follow.
As the shuttle's computer descended into the private hangar that was meant for them. Anden gave a good look over the crew and Yarva Vex
the pilot. He'd approach Djorn Bline
from behind as the loading ramp opened and connected to the steel ground of the hangar. A slight shiver was made as Anden was introduced to the cold temperatures. He then provides his fellow comrade a nudge with his elbow.
"Been dying for an assignment and you take me to winter wasteland. Thanks, Djorn." He jested, quietly. A chuckle was provided before raising a cloth up to cover the lower half of his face, and popping a hood over his head.
Anden strode down the ramp with his gloved hands holding onto the lapels of his bright brown coat, scanning the area around. Typical of his military nature. He awaited the others to disembark.
This may be his first assignment under the New Imperial Order after months of evaluations, but there was no room for screw-ups.
Years of Sith oppression. They'd been careful, and she'd traveled the Rim to fund her clan, but they'd never been free. They'd never had the means to take vengeance on those who'd killed their clanmates, whether on Mandalore or Vonak. The hatred had boiled over long ago; only today did she get a chance to change things.
But it was only the start. Her 'alliance' with the Imperials was one of necessity, and of respect for those who had come to her clan's aid not too long ago. If they were to make a place for themselves away from the Sith, in this chaotic galaxy, they'd need to win it. Fire and beskar.
Though she was meant to be leading her people, when the opportunity for work elsewhere had presented itself she'd been quick to take it up. Working 'alone' was more comforting. She certainly couldn't command a squad of her own clan's warriors, but among the misfits on the Crimson Star, she was just fine. Just fine sitting quietly in her armor and listening to the nervous call from the ship's captain.
Vyca grunted, sparing a glance to the others there. Determined and skilled. No different from her. The ship settled into the private hangar, and she stood, looking to Snake for final instructions.
The frosty temperatures could be felt from inside the ship. It was always the cold weather that made Jair the most anti-social. Couldn't talk when your lips were damn near frozen shut.
The ship had started its descent downwards towards its surface destination and Jair could not help it but give one last glance over of his gear. His weapons were already cleaned and polished, trusted to work without fail. And his jetpack worked proficiently enough to still stay attached to his back. How his weapons and other gear would react to the cold, however, that he did not know. The interworking of weapons was known for acting up under extreme temperatures. He would just have to see how they fare.
The hanger had arrived quicker than he expected as their transport ship connected to the ground and the sounds of a ramp extending to the ground could be heard. Even before proceeding to the exit, a chilling cold could be felt. He walked down the ramp and outside to meet the harsh temperatures face-to-face. His armor kept him from freezing, but it didn't help much with any extra warmth. Staring over at Djorn Bline
, the instructions were given clearly.
At Snake's answer, Yarva's hand rose up to scratch at the side of his nose. His hand covered much of the lower half of his face at this point. It was useful in order to conceal the sneer that was forming on his mouth at the curt reply the operative gave him. Dropping the hand, his dark lips were parting into a wide smile as he bobbed his head up and down. "Of course," nodding his head. Behind him, in the cockpit he could hear a beep and he peered in, leaning into the doorway to see before he waved Djorn Bline
back with him.
"Alright, I've got something." Yarva said, a hand raising up to the console, running along the words before dropping down to the next line, focusing his level of vision before he nods again, this time more to himself before referring back to Snake. "Lookin' like there's a large spire, sensors on the way in kept logging it. Must be a busy place in there. According to scans when we were in orbit there's... Other cities, and one very big one. We landed in one of the smaller ones... They call it... Heioaboer," shooting a look over at Djorn. Maybe that meant something to his employer,but to Yarva it was just the name some alien species gave to their city.
"Let's see... Oh yeah, their big city. Enormous, only seen something this size on Ravelin. Errm... Couldn't seem to get a proper reading on the mountain range the city surrounds. Could be something hiding up there." There was a shrug. "I can't even pronounce the name of that city, so don't ask."
Brushing a hand through his dreads, he paused. "I know it's not my place, but, man... If you think you're taking down a whole city with a couple bucketheads, it's a suicide mission."
Only the adjusting lenses and soft whirs of the macrobinoculars were heard over the storm, the audio systems of her helmet tuning out the howling winds of Helgard's frigid surface. It was home to a race left alone by the Empire, the harsh domain of Kascalion Giedfield holding little interest to those in power yet still under surveillance. Deep snows. Cutting ice. Steep mountains. It was just like home, and a pang of nostalgia bid Ruek to take up her rifle to leave for a hunt. Of course that was a ridiculous idea, and no matter how insistent the internal voice became she stayed defiant, seizing the worth of her self as a soldier-- not an individual-- and her duty to the whole. Her Jelucan home boasted quite a benefit over Helgard, a benefit listed as a distinct lack of Mandalorians. Their distinctive armor showed no sign of allegiance, and their arrival on a trading vessel to such a planet was cause for alarm. It was the cadre of Sith-Eternals here that would make sure to remove them.
Reclined on the snowy mound Ruek watched their arrival. One hand held the macrobinoculars while the other stayed on her knee. The weight of the Judicator rested on her armor's thigh as she sat still as stone, watching, relaying the information, then listening as their next move was calculated.
You're sure Remi reached the station?
His voice was full of doubt but Ruek held her tongue.
Doesn't hurt to ask agai--
"We push ahead. Get Remi on the line and tell him to send them ASAP." Ruek's voice carried impassive and restrained, the tone of a soldier. It was an order to the team and an answer to Tast, the blasted echo. Ruek stashed away the macrobinoculars then took the Judicator in hand as she slinked away, visor still watching in the direction of the new arrivals. Either their infiltration would scrub the imperials alone or buy enough time for the others to arrive. Be they a scalpel or a spear it didn't matter, they had a job to do.
Ruek received eight repeats of the question turned into an answer. All were ready--of course they were, they were Sith. Her final order wasn't spoken but issued by turning away from them. They had her back, she needn't worry. The white-clad legionnaires fell in line and started for the hangar from its west side, a klick away but on foot to minimize their approach.
The news came as a surprise for Alina. She was on Helgard as sort of vacation. Exercise vacation. She heard somewhere that training in the cold was a good way to strengthen the body. Which she was pretty quickly starting to doubt, given how chilled to the bone she felt. Even here, in the Space Port. Dressed in the warmest Sith robe she could possibly get. The fur lined hood rested atop her head as she walked through the halls. Civilians were already being evacuated now that it was clear who landed in the hanger.
She stood on the west side, arms clasped behind her back. Waiting patiently. She was to meet Ruek Tast
and her squad and link up to deal with this threat. Alina wasn't alone of course. Alisteri Haxim
had come along, well. Had been dragged along by the blonde for this kind of training. "You ready for this?" She turned her gaze to her friend. This wasn't what she was expecting to be doing, but she was ready for it.
“You think we’re the only unit behind enemy lines, Yarva? I’m not one so keen in putting all my eggs in one basket,” Snake replied back to the smuggler’s concern of them being the only ones here. No. This operation’s success did not revolve around them. There were other special operation units within Helgard itself, following the same alibi as traders and merchants that have come to do “honest” business as Helgard welcomes free trade and market.
Hopefully that would ease up Yarva’s concerns and make him breathe a little bit.
“So no, this isn’t a suicide mission. You’ll get to see your mom again...unless well, just don’t screw up.” An indifferent jest at the smuggler, minor banter.
“Just make sure it’s not your last one, Anden.” A quick reply to Anden’s jest before giving his attention to his rag tag squad of Imperial operatives and Mandalorian warriors.
“You all have the necessities we need to carry out this job, and you all should have a neat deviceat your disposal. Let’s get up to the surface of this city and start our observation on this city. Ready your disguises, and follow my lead.”
He shortly addressed to his team before heading out of the ship and activating his holographic disguise, masking his appearance as a Devaronian in regular clothing that was appropriate for this cold weather. They were underground from Heioaboer’s surface as what was underneath the city’s facade was meant for harboring vessels as its primary function.
“Let’s get going, find a hololift to get us up above.”
"The only thing I'm not ready for is this forsaken temperature." The masked acolyte muttered under his breath, idly rubbing his hands along the length of his arms to try and get some form of friction to warm himself up. Alisteri had never been to a place so cold, and it showed. He had acquired, scavenged, and bartered for just about every piece of warm clothing that he could find not soon after Alina Tremiru
had dragged him off to this wretchedly cold planet; and he had thought Korriban was cold.
Suffice to say, he was bundled up with enough warmth to melt snow.
On the bright side he got a break from training, at least that's what his blond haired friend had told him they were doing instead of freezing themselves to death, in order to get some proper fighting in. It was almost a welcome reprieve, had it not been for the fact that the temperature seemed to have dropped even more than usual today. "Please tell me we will get moving soon, I can feel the frostbite digging into my limbs already."
// MANDO'AD DURREN // CLAN DURREN // TRAAT'ALIIT GAR BESBE'TRAYC //
// POSITION // CRIMSON STAR // HELGARD //
// OBJECTIVE // TSIKADOR //
// FOCUS // Djorn BlineJair OrdoSargon PriestDroz MuninAnden FanceloWallace PaxxusYarva Vex
// Ruek TastAlina TremiruAlisteri Haxim
// EQUIPMENT // BESKAR'GAM, BLASTER CARBINE, JETPACK, HOLOGRAPHIC DISGUISE MATRIX, MISCELLANEOUS EQUIPMENT // Vyca fastened the device to her armor and tapped it once, activating the holographic disguise matrix. With her armor on underneath there'd been fewer options for 'stealthy' disguises. After a bit of fiddling she'd settled on a Kel Dor, in part to better mask her slightly modulated voice. She walked with Djorn down the Crimson Star's landing ramp. Her gait careful, as to not betray her metal feet.
She glanced to the other Mandalorians. Seeing through their disguises was just as difficult as seeing through their armor -- but there was something she recognized there. Most of her kind preferred to work alone. Barely a word had been shared between them the entire journey. Maybe she could... try things out. She cleared her throat, an act that seemed almost deafening.
"We'll take the lift up. Make our way to the central market; it's not too far from the depot. Slip out, one by one -- the warehouse that was marked in the briefing, then we'll prep our entry from there." The group exited the hangar. She nodded down the hall to the entrance to a turbolift. "We should go up in two groups. Fewer we are in a city, less suspicion, but we'll keep in touch.
This time, Yarva wasn't able to hold back the temptation to suck his teeth at the COMPNOR Agent. But the smile that rose to his face was easily summoned. In this business of fake laughs and false friendships, Yarva had adapted to it quickly.
"Good to know," he says. "I'll roll with you guys. Give ya some legitimacy." Shrugging off his jacket, he went to fetch a dingy old robe. Brown, heavyset, it bore some colourful trim along the edges. His mothers, or fathers, he could hardly remember, and he was sure to keep his gloves on so that he wasn't dragged into a potential psychometric vision that revealed the truth. Some things were just better left unseen, and he didn't need to go about catching feelings in this instant. "You're kind of... Bold. No... Defiant." He added cheekily.
While the Mandalorians like Vyca Durren
, Jair Ordo
, Sargon Priest
, Droz Munin
, may have had disguises, Yarva didn't need one. Piloting a transport shuttle, he had plenty of reason for being on the planet. Transporting traders and merchants was a likely excuse. Helgard, a planet that he hadn't heard of until only recently becoming a source of trade was also a good reason to check it out.
The main ramp opened, and Yarva disembarked with Djorn Bline
. Above, the sliding sheet of metal closed back over the hangar. A frozen over planet, the climate wasn't ideal for old ships like his. Snow fell in, slowly drifting down to the hangar floor before he gives an upwards nod in the direction of Snake.
In front of him he pushed a hover cart. Mostly small spare parts, and a more exotic kind of weapons. Light-whips, old school lightsabers. Hydrospanners and crowbars. Even a music system or two? Who didn't like to groove while in the midst of hyperspace? "Lead on."
It didn't take them long to travel through the underground tunnel to the main thoroughfare that would lead up to the surface and into the city. Open to the public, the Sith Empire likely had to worry more about the resident Dread Ascendancy Empire naysayers gaining too much power instead of a handful of entrepreneurs.
He had been given a device he had never witnessed before. In a similar fashion to everyone else, the device was firmly secured on his armor and turned on. Quickly, he found his armor replaced with clothes appropriate for the environment. His gloved fingers turned into skinny green ones. He did not take the time to choose a disguise, so he went with the one that was present. He walked over to the side of the ship, and through the reflection, he could see the little antennae coming from the top of his head and his head shaped much differently from his helmet. A Rodian. Wouldn't be his first choice off the bat but nonetheless worked with the mission.
The female Mandalorian traveling with the group spoke up. She planned to make her way up to the central market through the lift. From there, they would find and breach the warehouse that was designated from the briefing. It was the plan he could work with.
"Cha wana ta du toga seea." The Mandalorian looked at the confused faces he was given and then realized the issue. His voice modulator hadn't been set to Galactic Basic. After some quick tinkering, it was functioning correctly. "I'll accompany your group as well." He repeated back correctly.
He watched as they moved out of the hanger and followed closely behind.
A Holo-disguise on a Yinchorri? What species could Sargon of possibly of chosen. Walk amongst his vode and these new company of rather shifty individuals. Inspecting the device handed to him the mandalorian clipped it to his belt and took the time to set up the device's interface with his armors internal HUD. Words came to the large reptiles head and as of now all he did was listen.
With a flick of a switch the Holo-disguise activated. Though he could not see it himself. Information from his HUD told him that his outer appearance had been changed to that of a wookie merchant. A glare fell apon Yarva Vex
and Djorn Bline
A glare they wouldn't even see.
" Meh Tahla'ada?" He voiced aloud realizing he was a wookie.
" This isnt my preferred way of doing things, But I like you shady types." His sarcasm was palpable.