Private The Balmorran Extraction

[Sephira Mond]

ODESSEN
SECTION C
O-BRANCH READY ROOM
0857 LOCAL TIME
​

Sephira Mond arrived to the briefing room early, as was her wont. Not as early as was her wont, but early enough to avoid a ticking off.

She didn't know exactly how Cresh knew who was late and who wasn't. She had never seen Cresh before, as far as she knew. The three times she had heard Cresh speak it had been in this room, a sealed security island outside of which she'd had to lock up her comlink, and inside of which she could not see a single camera or other observation device. Not even one of those one-way mirrors that fooled no one. She set her coffee cup on a table and knelt to refasten her boot laces, then straightened and carefully adjusted the pins that kept her shiny black hair tucked back.

The clock on the wall, an analog thing that inexplicably kept perfect time, ticked over to 0858 and she glanced at her watch to check. "Cutting it fine, Moz," she murmured through a smirk. I'm going to be mummy's favorite because I showed up on time. Victory is mine, victory is mine. Well that wasn't exactly fair. He still had two minutes -- rather, a minute forty. Sephira picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, savoring the moment of downtime before, at precisely 0900, the screen lit up, showing the planet Balmorra rotating slowly in hues of blue, data scrolling around the edges.

A faintly mechanical voice -- vaguely androgynous -- announced: "This is Balmorra, weapons manufacturing stronghold in the Core. When the Galactic Empire conquered it, the free nations of the galaxy, to say nothing of the Galactic Alliance, lost a significant arsenal in defense of democracy. The sudden nature of the Empire's actions prevented a larger-scale evacuation that was seen on other worlds like Coruscant. As a result, the Alliance lost access to a great deal of military materiel. During a recent raid on Balmorra, we received intelligence regarding a potential asset with experience in weapons systems and equipment development." The image shifted, a headshot of a woman in her thirties appearing, pulled from a corporate holosite. "Avenyx Bevan, of Heliox Logistics, had been unaccounted for following the change in Balmorra's status. Now we know that she is alive and active on Balmorra."

The voice paused and then the map returned. "Bevan was last seen destroying the Heliox Logistics research facility, presumably to avoid the records there from falling into Imperial hands. We also have reports, some confirmed, of her participation in a resistance cell on Balmorra, where she has provided weapons, ammunition, and equipment improvised from what remains on Balmorra following the Alliance pullout. Analysis suggests that Bevan would be strong asset to Section C. Your mission is to travel to Balmorra, locate Bevan, and extract her to Odessen. You will have local resistance support, if necessary. As a secondary objective, ensure that any of her plans, research, or designs are well and truly destroyed or extracted with her. For preserving the weapons research, Section C has activated your licenses to kill."

"Inside your briefing packets, you will find additional information, including a psychological profile, health misses, or old photographs." Another little pause. "Any questions?" the voice asked.

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"Just one, do we get some time off to explore the local literature scene?" The voice loomed up behind Sephira and would confirm that Mozorov had been in the room for quite a bit. Perhaps even sooner than Mond? Tough to say, for someone so gangly and tall as him, he had a way of showing up in the strangest places without warning.

The robotic voice didn't respond and that was an answer in itself.

"I guess not. In that case, I don't have any questions, do you?" To Mond. There would be time for some queries, but irrespective of that they'd leave right back from where they came. Out of the room and into the corridor beyond.

"I see you were trying to curry favor again with mother dearest. Are you not tired of losing to me yet?" Ivo teased her lightly as they went back towards the barracks, his hip checking hers in a light joking way. Sephira knew that it was at least partially a way to reassure himself. The idea of being given a license to kill still bothered Ivo.

He would do it, the training had been firm and assured, but he still did not prefer it.

One thing when they were in space and it was a dog fight. Another when you were holding the blaster and had to pull the trigger yourself.

"You think this is going to be a rough one? It's smack dab in Imperial territory..."

 

[Sephira Mond]

When neither agent had serious questions, the briefing room's lights came up. Sephira took a copy of the briefing holodisc and loaded it into her datapad to get a more detailed view. Some light reading during the flight, at any rate. "It's going to be a rough one," Sephira confirmed, her voice flatly analytical. There was no doubt about it in her mind. "From what I know, Balmorra isn't a picnic on a good day. It's industrial and war torn and absolutely cut-throat. I'm sure the resistance isn't helping things. You know how the imperials love a bit of a crack-down."

She tucked the datapad into the little pouch in her bandolier and smoothed her jumpsuit. "But we've got a leg up, I guess. Resistance contacts who know where this... Bevan is." Sephira unzipped the throat of her flightsuit a little, letting some cool air in. "Or at least, how to get us into contact with her." She glanced over at her fellow pilot, eyebrow lifting a little. "You think it's worth all this kerfuffle? One weapons researcher? When they've got a kriffing Death Star?"

Her tone left little to the imagination of what she thought.

"And don't worry, sweet pea. If you feel squeamish about using your license to kill to bash the fash, that's just... y'know. More for me."

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"I think we are up against a foe that appeared out of nowhere and immediately carved practically the whole of the Core out for themselves." Ivo said dryly as he followed her along, while trying not to get too distracted by the way she worked that zipper. It brought back memories of simpler times, when they were still studying to make a mark on the Galaxy.

Who knew they'd be here now, doing something decidedly more serious than forgetting homework or trying to keep a corporate job.

"So any kind of leg-up is probably welcome. And who knows, maybe that one researcher will come along with a whole armory." Then a shrug as they turned the corner towards the hangar bays. "We can always use more weapons at least."

Then a snort.

"Oh, shut up, I will do my duty. I have always done my duty, you know that." Ivo said quickly as they entered the bay itself with the ships inside. "I am just saying, we are only two people. We should be careful here, we are slipping into enemy territory and best if we don't raise too much suspicion on ourselves... lest we enter a situation we can't shoot our way out."

But it did belie his concern a little.

Would he hesitate if he had to squeeze the trigger? Training was one thing, this was another.

 

[Sephira Mond]

"You shut up," Sephira shot back with an exaggerated scowl, though her tone clearly belied amusement. "Don't worry your pretty little head, Moz. One can shoot one's way out of anything if one is brave enough, if one believes in oneself enough." A smirk, then: "Anyway, ready for the bad news? We don't get to fly the X-Wings this time. Got to have room to bring back this Bevan woman back. So... it's the station wagon." The station wagon was Sephira's derisive nickname for the battered-but-capable YT-1760 used to slip in and out of backwaters and industrial hellscapes like Balmorra. It lacked the speed and efficiency of the X-Wings that Sephira loved to fly, but it was a more comfortable ride, with some room for spreading out for the journey.

"F Branch left us a packet in the cockpit with a cover story and credentials," said Sephira. She palmed the door to the pilot's room open and stepped inside, snatching up her duty duffle. She went to her locker and began to put some clothes inside: casual civilian clothes, and a lightly-armored undersuit, her packet of lockpicking tools, her duty pistol, and other equipment.

"I wonder what kind of gear this lady's cooking up," Sephira said over her shoulder to Ivo Mozorov . "For Section C to go to all this trouble, you know?"

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"Oh, you think I am pretty? Good to know." Ivo responded with a little smirk, skipping over the part where she told him to shut up.

He surpassed a groan at the mention of the wagon. It was also not his favorite, but Ivo was reasonably sure she hated the vehicle in a way he could never match. At the very least there was more leg room here compared to the cramped x-wings. They had barely been made for a figure of his height, so Ivo always had to duck to get in and not smash his head against the ceiling when they closed the cockpit.

While she was packing her stuff Ivo took the liberty to check out their cover IDs, but it didn't take long for Seph to hear him laugh.

That wouldn't bode well, but before she could ask she would feel him settle next to her, leaning against the lockers.

"Guess what, miss Mond. Looks like we are married for this mission." Dangling the papers in front of her. "You are gonna have to start calling me husband, be very considerate of my wants and needs, you know. It's not a Hapan marriage, after all."

His brows furrowed again at the question posed however.

"I think she must be some sort of genius, because you are right, this is a lot of effort for just any ol' inventor."

 

[Sephira Mond]

Sephira looked over her shoulder at Ivo, eyebrows lifting. "Married again, huh? This is -- what -- the fourth time we've been married? Fifth? You'd think we'd have it all figured out by now." She zipped her bag, turned fully to face him, and took the envelope from him to study the materials inside. "I wonder why they'd bother. It's just an extraction job. I don't expect that we're going to be checking into any fancy hotels on Balmorra. Oh yes, I'm Lady Helena Hudor-Tudor and this is my husband Sir Holbrook Hudor-Tudor and we're here on lovely, wartorn, noxious Balmorra for our romantic honeymoon -- I don't think."

"Very sorry to say, my dear," the agent said sweetly as she slung her bag over one shoulder and handed the envelope back to Ivo. "You'll be catering to your own needs, Four-Eyes," she said dryly, then gestured toward the door. "After you, Sir Holbrook."

It didn't take long to set things to rights on the ship. She retrieved the information from F Branch in the cockpit. "We are aboard the Leaping Somnambulist," she told Ivo, reading from the page. "Registered to Universal Exports, Limited, an Anaxes corporation. Our primary goal is to seek munitions for an Imperial-aligned militia." She flipped through the pages, dark eyes scanning the details that were included there.

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"I don't know." Thoughtful there as he pushed his spectacles up his nose. "Even these places have a rich elite. We don't know yet where this inventor is hiding out."

Instinctively you'd assume it would be somewhere in the bad lands. Less attention on you, in one way, the ability to blend in and if need be respond with deadly force.

On the other hand, hiding among the rich was a great way to obfuscate a rebel. The rich were never the rebellious sort. If you could pull off looking like them, speaking like them, it would be a great place for an insurgent to hide. The elite were never hassled all that much, any checks or inspections would be of little concern.

He chuckled there.

"Well, what is it they say, Fifth time's the charm? Or was it third? I guess we are a slow study." He settled in the pilot chair and engaged the controls to prepare for their lift-off while Seph went over the details.

"Oh, really? So we are in the arms business. Wealthy, married and entirely morally compromised..." Ivo hummed there. "Oh, I bet they packed a tux for me. I hope they got the size right this time. Last time it was way too tight. Strap in, we are lifting off." The young man warned his partner as he engaged the engines.

Warming them up as he taxi'd the ship slowly, arranging it to settle in a line that would take them out of the bay.

"Anything you'd like to try this mission?"

Usually they took advantage of a new cover story. Either trying out a restaurant they always had dreamed of during their college days. Or going to an exclusive club.

It was a small pleasure, but one that kept them sane.

 

[Sephira Mond]

"So you're thinking... what?" Sephira said as she buckled herself into the co-pilot's seat, securing the crash webbing around her slim frame carefully. "We get a room in Bin Prime and rent a car to go out to the factories? Just so we can make the most of our per diem and allowable expenses?"

It wasn't a horrible idea, actually, except that it exposed them to Balmorra for longer than was strictly necessary. She found the idea a little worrying, mainly because Balmorra was currently a basket case. "But if we're supposed to be industrialists ourselves, we should look the part," Sephira mused aloud. "It would make sense for us to go somewhere posh. Luckily I never go anywhere without my little black dress. It's simply too versatile."

She proceeded through the early-flight checklist and input the coordinates in the first of their jump vectors into the navicomputer. "Ready to jump when you are," said Sephira absent-mindedly. She swiveled in her chair and studied the materials, trying to chart where Bevan's area of operations was relative to the capital city of Bin Prime.

"You know me," she said over her shoulder to Ivo. "I love a local delicacy. As long as it's not snails. Snails or spiders. Snakes. Eels. Insects of any extraction, really. What about you? Anything in particular take your fancy about Balmorra? Do they use gunpowder in a special cocktail or something?"

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"That's exactly what I am thinking. While I want to get in and out as much as you do, I think we need to be cautious." Ivo said quietly as he nodded and began the punch in the coordinates to pre-warm the flight systems. "Balmorra is one of their primary manufacturing hubs. It might be a hot spot of activity, but it means they will be paying very close attention who is coming in and out."

It meant that if they simply tried to insert themselves, bee-line towards the genius engineer, they might lead the Imps straight to her. And the last thing anyone wanted was for the fascists to get their hands on this asset.

"Instead we act the part. Industrialists who love a bit of danger, who are interested in supporting the Imperial war-machine. We sample the local elite cuisine, sleep under silky sheets, get a massage perhaps."

Ivo shrugged.

"The asset has managed to stay off the grid this long. I would hate for them to be compromised, just because we try to do this quickly." Finally he angled the ship up, letting it drift into the air and then taxi-ing it out of the hangar bay. Luckily it wasn't all that busy this time a day, so they could fly up and away relatively quickly.

"Besides... I haven't seen you in that little black dress in a long time." Ivo murmured warmly, glancing towards her. "I packed that tux you so enjoyed on me too."

He thought about the cuisine choices and shrugged again.

"As long as its not some type of fish, I will be happy. Give me some meat on the plate and I will be happy, you know. Guess I am easy to please."

 

[Sephira Mond]

Sephira frowned thoughtfully as she watched the flight techs bustling hither and thither on the landing platform outside. "We're certainly going to look the part of elite industrialists in this hunk of junk," she said, unimpressed. "But then again that's probably wise. You don't take a sports-speeder off-roading, and you don't take a pristine chromium yacht to a dirty factory world."

She stood and leaned over to pick up the identity dossier that Q Branch had provided. "So we're married. That means -- ah, right." She shook the envelope out and a pair of golden rings fall into her palm. She took the smaller one for herself and slid it onto her left ring finger and tucked the other one into Ivo's breast pocket. "And do we have names?"

Unfolding the dossier, she examined the paperwork. Sephira's dark eyes scanned along. "Ah, all right. Husband -- that's you, darling -- Corten Rollins, President of Universal Exports, Limited. Graduate of some school or another -- Coronet University. And I'm... let's see. Elliara Rollins née Leavale, also a graduate from Coronet University. Do you suppose were were university sweethearts? Or were you carrying on with my roommate and I was an ugly duckling?"

She studied her own background and then the identity card assigned to her. "They got my weight right this time, at least."

Ivo Mozorov

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

A soft chuckle.

"We are not just elite industrials, we are wise ones, who do not wish to draw attention to ourselves immediately." Ivo murmured, thoughtfully, about it as the launch procedures were finalized. "Coronet, so Corellia, we are not natural Empire lovers. That means we must keep a low profile, because if our families and friends back home knew we are not just quietly supporting the Empire but actively supplying them with arms?"

Ivo shrugged there.

"It would be quite a scandal, I imagine."

A glance her way. "You were never the ugly duckling and I doubt anyone would ever believe that." The man chuckled and teased as they finally slid into space and took-off.

He thought back to their college years.

Those were the days. Things had been relatively calm in the Galaxy. Sure, there were conflicts and messes, but the One Sith had been dead for such a long time that the Core practically forgot what a real war was like. They got complacent, Ivo understood that, but he missed it anyway. When their largest concerns were what Major to pick and if they'd be able to get a good job later on.

Or what club they'd go to dance the night out.

"We can pretend like this is what it was supposed to be like." Ivo said gently over to her, patting his breast pocket absently. "If the war hadn't broken out, if Corellia hadn't been destroyed. Just a glimpse into an alternative reality."

Even if they had rebuild Corellia later on. It didn't feel the same, not at all.

 

[Sephira Mond]

"You're so full of it," said Sephira on a chuckle. "I've barely grown into this nose, if I even have at all."

She turned her head in profile. She had once been insecure about the size and angle of her nose, but she had grown into her features, and now she appreciated that it gave her something of an exotic vibe. Ugly duckling indeed. Her fingers rifled through her dossier, eyes scanning through the pages, frowning thoughtfully.

"Wild, the things they can do," she mused thoughtfully as he mentioned Corellia. "Makes you wonder what they could do to a planet that isn't already broken in half, right?"

The young spy finished her dossier, trying to commit what she could to memory. "I've got two older brothers, as it turns out," she said, flashing him the page of the dossier that laid out her family. "So you'd better watch the way you talk to me, bub." Sephira nudged his chair with her foot. She absent-mindedly twisted the 'wedding' band on her finger, frowning out the viewport.

"Did you think this is what you'd be doing, back in university?" Sephira asked quietly.

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

He rolled his eyes but he smiled. The argument reminded him of the college days even more. Back then he constantly reassured her that he liked her nose. Once upon a time Ivo had discovered this pamphlet for a place that offered cosmetic surgeries and he had been so worried.

Had it been hers? Or had someone given it to her? Ivo didn't remember.

But glancing to her, every time, reminded him of that. And he was always happy she seemed to come to accept how she looked. It was what made her so unique.

"Oh, gosh, two of them? I guess I have to prepare to get my ass beat then, because your husband has a loose tongue and he often speaks liberally of his wife." A little smirk there.

The tension was always there. Right in the background just waiting for them to pick it back up.

Then she asked him the million credit question and that made Ivo pause.

He looked away. Instead looked through the viewport to the stars, before finally shaking his head.

"No, I didn't think I'd ever be cut out for something like this. I just wanted a well-paid corpo job and be happy with a glamorous lifestyle."

Then Ivo smiled thinly.

"Guess I got that anyway, even if its only a fraction of the time and not mine. And you? You recruited me into this, so at a bare minimum you were at it before you dragged me in too."

 

[Sephira Mond]

"Yeah," said Sephira. "You're welcome, by the way."

This was slightly tongue-in-cheek, slightly more than that. Because she knew that this work didn't come naturally to Ivo Mozorov. He was debonair, good looking, good with people, smart. But violence? The kinds of decisions that could and would hurt people, even people not involved in the game? That didn't seem to be easy for him. He didn't seem to like it.

"No, I never thought I'd be doing this in university."

As a little girl, she had thought she might be a lawyer. She thought she might be an actress. She thought maybe one day she could be an author. She thought she might be a princess. Then came the diagnosis. Treatments were expensive. She had to get a real job, a good job, a stable job.

In university, she studied aeronautics and earned an officer's commission. Now here she was, on loan from the Renascent Defense Legion, paid -- not spectacularly, but there was danger pay -- and steadily working.

"Did I really drag you? That is so... unmusical a word."

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"Mm, yes, very kind of you, thank you." Ivo responded dryly but without any hard feelings associated with it. It wasn't what he had ever imagined and parts of the job were a touch distasteful to him, but overall Ivo felt like he was doing something that mattered. Making an impact. Sometimes it was like being a little pebble against a storm.

But that didn't mean what they did, didn't matter.

He reached out and patted her knee lightly. "No, no, I was just teasing you. I am quite happy you tracked me down and gave me the best recruitment round I have ever seen."

Hey Ivo, would you like to risk life and limb for very little pay and no promise it will amount to anything at all?

That was basically the summary Ivo remembered.

It was probably much more charismatic than that in reality.

"Besides getting to see you in that black dress... yeah, that makes up for it all, really." Ivo smirking a little there.

 

[Sephira Mond]

Sephira busied herself with settling back into the seat and helping with the jump coordinates, double-checking to make sure neither of them half fat-fingered. These things did happen. "Mm," she said, non-committal, at his response about whether she'd dragged him. She was not convinced, clearly, but there was no point in hashing it out now. Not in the middle of a mission. Not when they had some scientist or engineer to rescue. But she knew that the pitch hadn't been great.

"Again with the little black dress," she quipped as she unbuckled. For some reason, Sephira couldn't stay still today. She glanced at her chrono and then crossed back to the locker and opened it. "After I just told you about my brothers kicking your ass around the mid-rim if you run your mouth at me. Shaking my head, Moz, shaking my head." Sepihra shuffled through her belongings before pulling a small metal cannister out. She twisted one end, holding her hand at the other, and saw two little green pills fall into the cup of her palm.

She called them her vitamins so that her mission partners didn't ask any questions.

"How long is it to Balmorra, anyway?"

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

"Yes, but your brothers should know by now, that your husband is not that impressed with them and certainly not fearful." Ivo said with a little smirk himself.

"Didn't I kick their ass during our courting? I vaguely recall something like that." Ivo said thoughtfully as he engaged the auto-pilot and finally got up, stretching with a little moan there. "I think they were trying to chase me off, I was very insistent... which you seemed to like. And then they tried to ambush me?"

Smirking as he leaned in against the lockers, watching her take her medicine, or her vitamins anyway.

"If memory serves me right... that was when you finally agreed to go out on a date with me. You were very impressed."

The way the man could spin a tale without hesitation and at the drop of a dime was presumably one of the reasons why Sephi had decided to approach him in the first place.

Just perhaps a little annoying when it was applied to her.

"Oh... I think we have a little time. If we want to... try out outfits. See if it all... fits with the vibe?" Innocent tone followed.

 

[Sephira Mond]

"Is that how it went?" Sephira asked with a dry smirk. "Well, if you say so."

Sephira rolled her eyes.

"The facility with which you make up stories must be worrying to any woman foolish enough to trust you," she said. "I seem to recall that being an issue at university. But perhaps sleeping nexu should be allowed to... stay sleeping," she said, avoiding the usual ending of the phrase, lie, given its homophonic nature.

She saw right through his suggestion about try on outfits. "Oh, you needn't worry, Moz. I had Louis, that handsome man in Q Branch, give me a good, close once-over in the dressing room to see if any alterations were needed. I believe his exact words were 'it fits like a glove'." That conversation had taken place, but it was with Myra, the bubbly Bothan seamstress, not the handsome, broody uniform specialist.

She stood to stretch, flexed her arms behind her back briefly. "I can take first watch if you want to get some food or nap," Sephira offered pleasantly, bracing herself on the back of his pilot's chair.

Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Sephira Mond

Eyes flicking to her.

"Louis, you have got to be-" Then Ivo's eyes squint a bit deeper as he observed her. It wasn't a sure thing, but Ivo knew her rather well and more importantly knew how people worked. A good reader of people and Sephira wasn't yet in work-mode, so not like she was trying to hide her intent with a poker face.

"Now that is just mean, darling..." Ivo murmurs warmly, settling his hip against his chair, which means they are practically next to each other. "Dragging someone into our little situation... trying to make me jealous?"

Ivo smiled there and reached out, to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"I was thinking we could play a game. Perhaps a card game?"

A very innocent offer in the face of it all.