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​