Mission The Dark Purge | SIA

[IVI]

THE SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR
THE ERA OF RECLAMATION
OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | HIGH COMMAND SITUATION ROOM

In the wake of The Era of Reclamation, the senate is ablaze with the impact of freedom of religion within Alliance space when said Force Religions are Sith aligned.

With the initiative to close the corridor to the core, several questions start to emerge from activists and intelligence alike: Was it the dark, cultish seeds of Sith practice that allowed the fall of Empress Teta so easily to The Brotherhood? Should The Alliance enforce a ban on any Sith Teachings to curtail the development of possible cults?

And if so, should it be the duty of the Jedi or the Alliance Military (Be Marshals or SIA) to conduct these removal operations? And whoever’s duty it becomes, would these actions be conducted either with or without the Planetary Government's approval or even knowledge?

M, of course, wanted the advantage on the latter two questions. The Jedi were a powerful ally, but they could be troublesome. Their mercy sometimes overreached their tenacity, and beget instances where they were subject to being overtaken by The Force’s mysteries. Worse yet, they were hard to control — above all else, they prioritized their Order’s code and tenets. Non-Force users, however, who were trained properly, wouldn’t have the same appreciation or ties to the metaphysical. They could be more brutal and precise according to her instructions.

M liked precision, and she loved control.

More importantly, M liked demonstrations and action rather than discussions. The politicians could hold discourse over the questions that hung in the air — was it right to set boundaries on which religions could be practiced? Which cults could be tolerated? — and while they chit-chat about moralities, she’d have the evidence of what it would look like if their decisions truncated the growth of evil.

Select politicians were given the opportunity and acknowledgement that the SIA was conducting a new operation field test, and a broadcast could be accessed via the situation room.

The room was dark. A long table that could easily sit twenty stretched lengthwise beneath the soft glow of a barely-lit Starbird emblem cut into the ceiling. At the head of the table, the chiss sat. Her gaze was intent on the three-dimensional display in the centre of the table — a stream that was mirrored in glowing holo displays behind her, and on the two parallel walls on either side of the table.
Like an action movie that invited the audience’s participation and keen eye, the streams were live recordings from Empress Teta. Cams were strapped to the nascent Task Force created specifically for trialling Anti-Force User technology and training. Techniques that were growing more and more necessary with the growing threat along the Iron borders and The Maw.

Their instructions were simple.

CLASSIFICATION: PRIORITY FIVE; ONITH STRATEGIC INTELLIGENCE AGENCY //..transmission Designate: YSALAMIRI​ PILOT OPERATION: DIVINE RETRIBUTION | TZY LOCATION: EMPRESS TETA, CINNEGAR, IRON CITAGEL AND SURROUNDING AREA BRIEF: SWEEP THE AREA. FIND AND DESTROY REMNANTS OF SITH ARTIFACTS OR CULTS. LICENSE TO KILL: GRANTED ON ALL SITH-RELATED PRACTITIONERS AND PERSONNEL.

<Golden Boy, you’re live for the pilot of Operation Dee Are.>

---

TASK FORCE YSALAMARI: Tiric Sar'andor | Dominik Borra | Phaineve Halseigh | Vyn Daldoure | Driver | Xandyr | Colton Renfro
MARSHALS | OPEN
SENATORS | OPEN, DEBATE AMONGST YOURSELVES

 

[Elizie Athacorr]

Seated some few chairs down from the Chiss Director of the SIA, she was very curious at how this proposed task force would operate. It was a bold proposition to train a select team to deal with Force Users that were not Force users themselves, at least acknowledged in some way. The Senate was tied up in the debate on what sort of religious or cultural practices should be restricted or outlawed, and while fascinating, there was still a war against the Maw that she was going to turn some of her own attention towards in the future. For now, it would just be interesting to glean some data on how the SIA was developing their anti-Force operatives.

She could see how, if the project was greenlit fully, how Arkania could help the SIA with... creating certain augmentations to assist their agents. Even if it wasn't officially approved, she suspected the Director was going to move forward with her operations. M had struck her as the sort of woman that didn't let such things as moral or cultural quibbles get in the way of her job. There was a pragmatism and ruthlessness to it that impressed her.

"What equipment is being tested in the field, Director?" she asked, gray eyes moving from stream to stream as the operation was initiated. "Or is this more of a tactics development operation?"

IVI
@Other Senators as they appear

 

[Ishani Dinn]

POV: Silas Fogg, the Pauper Alchemist
Location: Ruins of Cinnagar, Empress Teta
Objective: Survive
Tags: OPEN

Silas Fogg was suitably irritated with recent turns of events. He had been brought to Empress Teta to enact a dark ritual on behalf of his benefactor, one which promised great power. But then she had been killed in a duel (against royalty, at least; it would've been embarrassing if she had fallen at the hands of anyone less), the battle had been lost, and the planet's Mawite rulers were overthrown. Now Silas was stranded there without a means of escape.

The pauper alchemist wandered the city, carefully avoiding contact with any garrisons or surviving civilians. He was searching for something among the rubble, a body to be exact. He may have been a coward, but he had certain standards to uphold regarding his clientele. Namely, he wasn't about to leave the body of the woman who had hired him to rot in the ruins.

Ah, there she was. A scorched and battered Ishani Sibwarra lay sprawled in the street. Silas paused to admire the batlike wings she had been granted by Tsisaar Taral, which fanned out on either side of the corpse like the lepidoptera of a desiccated butterfly. They really were lovely work—all due praise to Shade of Decay for his skill.

It was unfortunate that she was dead. But there were ways of reversing that. Provided Silas could remove her from the battlefield relatively intact.

Stretching out an arm, Silas seized the body with telekinesis (he certainly wasn't going to touch her) and lifted it into the air. With the corpse floating alongside him, he began the long and treacherous journey to the nearest available transport off this accursed world.

 

[IVI]

THE SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR
THE ERA OF RECLAMATION
OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | HIGH COMMAND SITUATION ROOM

"Good question, Senator.

The technology itself isn't as nascent as the team," M answered, keeping an eye on the cameras and how they navigated through the streets approaching the citadel.

When it looked like they were simply speaking with one another, and nothing interesting or major was happening, she looked across to the Senator of Arkania.

"Tactics development mostly." This room was far too public to admit she had her eye on temporary Force-giving supplements. She wanted to see how the underdogs did, before equipping them so hastily with that which they sought to destroy.

---

Elizie Athacorr

 

[Damian Du Couteau]

Damian Du Couteau
Location: Coruscant
Outfit

“And if what is conducted here is a duplicatable process, and if so; allowing us the use of a tool to guarantee any Core, Alliance, Planet from suffering a similar fate of Teta.” Damian added, his arms placed on top of the table in front of him. Hands hidden beneath his long sleeves as they overlapped one another.

Empress Teta was not simply an obvious choice for a testing grounds for these type of clandestine missions, it was also a necessity. The Sith cults of Teta were often seen as shady backrooms and smoked filled rooms of Tetan Nobles and Elites. Even when Du Couteau the Senior had attempted to curtail much of the Sith-like cults, he could only but contain the spread. A failure that costed him and his family dearly; and one now that Damian was attempting to amend, if not bring justice towards.

The utter shock from the Maw’s spear-head diving deep into the Alliance was more than a raw feeling for many of the Core worlds. The surprise attack on Coruscant and sacking of the Jedi Temple was still fresh in the minds of many. Even after the Alliance victory on Tython, the Maw were not without teeth. Even gorged and injured beasts can deliver devastating attacks right until their death. Damian grimly thought, knowing full well that should the Alliance not capitalize on their victory, the Alliance could one day regret it sorely.

“The real question, before military contracts are discussed or future operations planned, is how we can pursue the Alliance and the other Senators at large that these course of actions are needed.” Damian spoke, the firmness of his voice betraying his true feelings, his fingers tapping vigorously on either of his knuckles. Hidden beneath his choice of clothing.

My father would gap at the idea of an Inquisitorial type faction within the Alliance. . . the young Du Couteau heir knew of his father’s past. The irony was not lost, and neither was the seriousness of the proposition at hand.
​

|| IVI | Elizie Athacorr ||​

 

[Reiner Ghadi]

Tags: IVI , Elizie Athacorr , Damian Du Couteau

Reiner quietly eyed the camera footage, leaning forward in his seat with a great attentiveness. He was no stranger to fighting the denizens of the Sith, having made a name for himself fighting their very kind for years. His stance had always been of resolute vision, a galaxy no longer plagued by such troublesome groups of magicians and zealots. He yearned for a day that the madness would end, when the galaxy would finally be brought under the rule of order. Unfortunately, those machinations had seemed to slow to a crawl. The attack on Coruscant was a slap in the face, and the senator had urged that actions be taken to ensure that such a misstep would never again occur. Thus, he continued to sit in silence, analyzing the tactics and movements of the operatives as the others discussed the details of the operation.

His attention was drawn away for a moment, having been seized by the comment made by Damian. It was a fair point, as there would likely be many in the senate that might oppose such measures, but nonetheless... they would be necessary all the same.

"The effectiveness of the operatives will speak well enough for the project. Results are a powerful thing, no matter what the naysayers may have to say on the matter."

In truth, Reiner had already taken quite drastic measures to root out the darksiders on his homeworld, having taken it upon himself to ensure that his planet never suffered as Teta did. Perhaps if his words had been heeded sooner, the attack would have not been successful in the first place, but that was something he would address in due time.

"Those who refuse to see reason simply need to be reminded of the price that the Alliance has paid for not taking appropriate measures. Allowing this darkness to fester within our borders would be nothing short of treason."

A bold statement, perhaps, but one that had to be voiced. Reiner had grown weary of the bureaucratic tape that had often plagued the political world of the Alliance. And besides, he hadn't entered politics to make friends...

He did it to get results.

 

[Dominik Borra]

OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
LOCATION: Empress Teta, Ruins of Cinnagar
GEAR: Armor, Amulet of Many, DC-17m Weapon System, FDS-15S Scattergun MagRifle, Heavy Blaster Pistol
TAGS: IVI | Tiric Sar'andor | Phaineve Halseigh | Vyn Daldoure | Driver | Xandyr | Colton Renfro |

Fortune Days​

It had been a long, long time since Dominik had been filmed out in the field. He had cameras on him in training with the Sith, when he was being taught to hunt down Rogue Sith and Jedi alike. Since then he either avoided or destroyed cameras. But this was a special case. A trial run for Task Force Ysalamiri, showing senators and higher-ups how effective they might be. Hence the tiny droid hovering over his left shoulder broadcasting continuously.

M gave the green light to Tiric, but it was sent over all their channels. The members of the Task Force were spread out, hunting down various targets and points of interest. The powers that be could watch how they operate, even independently.

Dominik, code-named "Guns Galore" for his preference for overpowering enemy combatants by the sheer amount of firepower strapped to his body, kicked down the door to a home in the upper quarter of what used to be Cinnagar. The door used to slide open, but since two invasions blew it to hell, it was simply propped there to serve as a regular type of door. He carried his MagRifle Scattergun short-stock, the whole thing tilted 90 degrees on its side with the stock of the weapon resting flat on his shoulder so the whole of the longgun could be closer to his body. It was useful in tight quarters such as these. The parts to his DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon system were strapped to the outside of his armor, and an incredibly powerful blaster pistol holstered on his right thigh. Believe it or not, A MagRifle Scattergun, DC-17m and the heavy blaster was traveling relatively light for the agent. He normally carried a disrupter blaster on his person, but he figured using a gun like that wouldn't be approved by those watching.

Some cultist whose fight or flight landed on 'fight' rushed him, a vibroblade in her hand. Dominik swiveled easily and pulled the trigger. The magnetically propelled ammunition surged forward and ripped her shoulder, neck, and part of her head to pieces to collect and dry on the back wall. The rest of the body crumpled to his feet, vibroblade clattering to the ground. Dominik pumped the action on the scattergun and examined the room he was in. It was a dimly lit living room of sorts, half of it had collapsed but the rest had been made clean and serviceable. A blaster pistol was on a counter, stripped and being cleaned. There was a hallway that lead farther in, an empty bedroom that looked like it had been lived in recently, and a still-functioning door that slid into the wall. It was standard metal plating, nothing armored. Dominik turned on the thermal vision of his suit, and saw the outlines of a staircase leading down, red forms at the bottom with hands outstretched. Must be holding blasters.

Aiming at them through the door, Dominik sent several rounds roaring down the stairs.

BOOM pump BOOM pump BOOM pump BOOM pump BOOM pump
​

The forms fell to the ground, several large holes punched through the door. He slid several more shells into the weapon before pushing the button to open the door. It opened about halfway before the torn metal stretching outward stopped it. He stepped through and hit the button to close it and slowly walked down the stairs, scattergun poised once again for anyone who tried to surprise him. There were lights on down here, but as he got closer to the bottom they turned off, plunging the whole place into darkness. He checked a light switch near the bottom of the stairs with no luck. With a small sigh he turned on his night vision, turning his whole view into shades of green and black. Times like these were dangerous. All someone had to do was turn on a light and he'd be blinded momentarily, and if he used a light it would be really easy to tell where he was and where he was looking at any given time. Thermal might give him locations of people not hiding behind sufficient cover but wouldn't tell him much of his surroundings.

He stepped down off the stairs and took a look around. Lots of boxes, sleeping cots, and, well, what do you know. Sith artifacts, set up ontop of things like they were on display or worship or something. He looked down at the ruined corpses and, squatting down, didn't see any blasters of any kind. He distinctly remembered seeing an arm or three outstretched from these four people. Had they been waiting to use the force on him when he opened the door? If that was the case and they grouped up, maybe they weren't that strong in the force. They either just hoarded the artifacts as people with tiny bits of talent, or... or there was someone teaching them.

A foot planted itself on the stone floor behind him and Dominik could picture in his mind some dark-robed Sith with hands outstretched to hit him with the force. Dominik did the one thing they might least expect and in one smooth motion stood, leaped to the side and spun, pointing the gun at the figure and pulling the trigger. A blast of force hit the floor and scattered the bodies he had been inspecting, and just as fast as he had moved the force hit him, throwing him back to crash against a wall, his gun roaring into the floor. It kicked up a huge cloud of dust that hid his assailant, and he felt the force wrap around his throat. Even with his armor, the Force could reach to his very flesh and squeeze it. He was lifted into the air, armor scraping against the wall as the scattergun fell from his hands.

The Sith screamed in hate and fury, and Dom knew it was only moments before his bones would break. But the weakness in force choking was that it was focused so much on the throat, not the rest of the body. The emotions that fueled the dark side made you hyper-focus and get tunnel vision on what you wanted to kill. So imagine Dominik's surprise when the agent pulled the heavy blaster from his thigh and pointed it at the Sith, only for the Sith to swipe his arm through the air and cause the gun to go flying.

The Sith, who was some muscular monster of a man, maybe 7 feet tall and a Chiss from the looks of it, walked up close, teeth bared. "Who the kark are you, storming in here and killing my acolytes?! You want these treasures for yourself? They are MINE! MINE!"

Dominik couldn't exactly speak, but the fact that this Sith wasn't trying to murder him outright was stupid. And he got even closer. Why did they always think that those they were choking couldn't do anything? Dominik threw his armored knee forward, knocking him in the head and making him lose focus. The Sith snarled and Dominik dropped, landing on his feet and rolling, snatching up the scattergun. But the time it took to move the action and get another shell in the chamber was enough for the Sith to turn and shoot lightning at him.

Dominik's armor had a built-in Faraday cage, keeping the majority of the lightning off of him but it didn't stop his equipment from getting hit or from some of his joints locking up. The Faraday cage wasn't a perfect shield. He tossed the scattergun away, fearing what might happen if it got overloaded. Then he remembered all the ammo for the DC-17m. Gas. He tore one out of its sleeve on his belt and tossed it towards the Sith. Gas canisters explode when overheated, and force lightning made a lot of heat. The canister attracted the energy, overheating right in the Chiss' face and exploded.

Dominik fell on his back at the explosion. It wasn't big, but big enough to ruin concentration and would hurt to anyone not wearing armor. He heard the Chiss groaning in pain, coughing. Dominik rolled and got to his feet, vision slightly blurry but he had to move fast. The tiny droid that had been filming Dominik would, through a haze of smoke, watch him walk over to the Sith who was on his hands and knees and reach down around his head. The Chiss tried to fight, hands grabbing Dominik's arms, but he was too stunned. Dominik promptly snapped his neck. The body fell limp to the ground. Dominik then retrieved his weapons, and with the heavy pistol put two rounds in his head for good measure. The blaster bolts bore holes.

"Found a stash of artifacts. Secure. Ready for pickup. One Sith and his acolytes dead." Dominik reported to M.

He made sure he had all of his equipment, checked his gas canisters to make sure they weren't terribly damaged, then made a final sweep of the place before leaving.

 

[Driver]

OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
Tags: IVI , Tiric Sar'andor , Phaineve Halseigh , Vyn Daldoure , Colton Renfro, Xandyr , Dominik Borra ​

Driver stood at the doorway of a smoldering building at the edge of Cinnegar, DC-17s in hand. His mission was a simple one given his previous experience in the Clone Wars. The clone frequently went on missions behind enemy lines to do all kinds of things. Recon, extractions, you name it. This was just that with a fresh coat of paint.

“This is Grandfather,” Driver began, speaking into his communicator, “I’m at the point of interest. Going in to secure the package.”

He lightly tapped on the camera that had been strapped onto him to make sure it was online before making his way into the building. Rather than opposition, the clone was met with bodies. They were torn to shreds, severed by lightsabers, lightning, and in some cases brute force. They had seemingly turned on each other, for what reason Driver was unsure of.

“What a mess,” Driver muttered to himself as he stepped over one of the bodies. “I hope the payload is in a better state…”

A gleam of light caught his eye. The ignition of a red blade at the end of the corridor. A man stood there in tattered black robes, his body covered in blood. It was easy to assume this was the survivor of the group.

“You’ve come here to die,” he man stated in a hollow tone. “Do not resist like they did.”

Driver didn’t entertain the Sith. He immediately sprung into action, firing off three shots with his left blaster as he rushed towards the man. With his right, the clone Sergeant prepared a thermal detonator. His opponent lunged forward in an animalistic way, eyes burning amber with hunger. This wasn’t a man, not anymore. Monsters were powerful, but they were beings of instinct alone. Driver was more than just instinct.

Howling, the Sith swung his lightsaber in a vertical slash, the force behind it enough to shatter a nearby support beam. Driver slid under the strike, shooting the man twice in the knee. He quickly rose to his feet, bashing the butt of his pistol into the back of his opponent’s head. The Sith staggered forwards, whipping around with ferocity. With a snarl, he launched Driver down the hall with a force push.

“Pathetic,” the Sith spat. “The Galaxy has no place for weaklings like you.”

“That’s all?” Driver asked, seeming rather proud of himself. “Those are lousy last words.”

Driver didn’t get up. Instead, he gestured for the Sith to look down. What the Sith had failed to realize was that when the clone slid under his blade, he had managed to plant the thermal detonator he had prepared on the side of his boot. The following explosion blew the entrance of the building to kingdom come, sending chunks of flesh flying. What dead bodies had lined the front door were vaporized, with nothing but a crater full of ash left behind. Driver stood, brushing soot and blood off of himself.

“So uncivilized.”

Driver turned, stepping into the only remaining room that wasn’t blasted to hell. He had hit the mother load. Sith holocrons littered the room, the databanks they used to store the knowledge of their rituals and teachings. The clone counted at least thirteen, maybe more.

“I’ve got eyes on the payload,” Driver announced. “Ready for extraction. Mind the bodies on the way in.”

With his location secured, Driver figured it would be best to group up with his squad. The Sergeant holstered his blasters, making his way through the decimated entrance back out into the streets of Cinnegar.

 

[Tiric Sar'andor]

-

​

DIVINE_RETRIBUTION

Location: Courtyard, Area around the Iron Citadel, Cinnegar, Empress Teta, Core Worlds
Unit: Task Force Ysalamiri
Objective: Find and Destroy Sith Artefacts

Spoiler

Equipment:
Shocktrooper Armour [ARC Trooper Variant] w/ Jetpack
Military Shield

Spoiler

Hawk-bat Blaster Rifle w/ Mini Rocket Rack, Grapnel and Supressors
Nasty Blade
Dual Feverwasps w/ Supressors
Detonators

THE AUDIENCE:
IVI Elizie Athacorr Reiner Ghadi
ALLIES:
TASK FORCE YSALAMIRI - Dominik Borra | Phaineve Halseigh | Colton Renfro | Vyn Daldoure | Driver
ENEMIES:
Ishani Dinn

​

Tiric gave the Feverwasps a dainty twirl in his fingers. He liked his guns to feel worn, he never felt comfortable with models that had just come off the conveyer. The newness put an unease in him. Perhaps it took him back to his days in the military, when casualties were so high that most of the time the blaster you used wasn't the one you'd been issued. Clutching his weapon to his chest with weary but ever-ready hands shrouded by the black material of the bodysuit. He adjusted the straps as the jetpack shifted on his back ever so slightly. Every detail had to be exactly right.

Green boxes materialised around his intrepid companions, two regular operatives who'd been briefly assigned to the unit in order to fill the quota. The lost sleep while pouring after citations, after actions reports and personnel dossiers gave him confidence that these two were the best for the job. Their vitals briefly appeared on the side of his HUD, as he shot out an arm, forming his gloved hands into a closed fist which he then raised up toward the heavens. He pushed a button on the back of the pack and he had to fight to stay on his feet, as the jetpack roared to life behind him.

<Golden Boy, you’re live for the pilot of Operation Dee Are.>

The operative had never particularly enjoyed being watched, observed, judged, unless it was without his knowledge of course. But that wasn't to impede the objective. It couldn't if this motely new group was to survive past their initial probation stages. He wasn't going to let the project implode too quickly on its first detonation. A click went inside the surprisingly cavernous helmet as he switched the com on. <"Recieved. All operators accounted for, moving in. Golden Boy out."> Concise. Just how he liked it.

Pushing off hard from the ground, the ferrocrete quickly disappeared as he shot up into the air, the others quickly following. Driver, one of the new recruits that he had snapped up, crackled through.

“This is Grandfather,” Driver began, speaking into his communicator, “I’m at the point of interest. Going in to secure the package.”

<"Received. Extractors will be there in a matter of minutes."> He answered, mentally noting that he had to go send an order to get the payload. He was sure M and the audience would love that. The live feed still playing, he soared higher and higher, heading straight towards what was left of a derelict high-rise facility. Sith sure weren't fond of their cleanliness. It got larger and larger in the HUD screen as they passed above the town, the extent of the devastation on the world clearly evident when he glanced down. Beginning to accelerate now, he almost smashed into a ledge just by a transparisteel window, the others joining him. His armour made slight impact with the wall as he bounced back and hovered about a metre to the side so that any internal observer would think that they were simply window cleaners.

The facility held the type of artefacts that Tiric imagined a Jedi Archaeologists would have dreamed of. Of course, a Jedi archaeologists wouldn't go in and outright steal them of course. Tiric hadn't really liked sharing anyways. He switched the com to the frequency of the squad now. "Smoker. Stand by." He ordered. They had a limited window before the busy Sith occupying the library realized that something was amiss, just outside of the window. One of the troopers geared up an attached grenade launcher filled with two smoke bombs.

"Assume trident formation. Bombs. Now!" They moved into an almost triangle formation, each of them taking a position that would mean entry from different points around the window. He hovered just above it, waiting for the others, flanked to the left and right of the window to break in. A large BOOM, and an accompanying plume of deep grey smoke appeared just under him. At break-neck speed, the two rushed into guns blazing, and he flipped in through the smoke. He imagined a little flair for the viewers wouldn't do any harm. Numerous targets, highlights at red rectangles across the stretch of the room, where at the end, a dispensary lay. Return fire from the non-Sith in the room was minimal, despite the pistol in their hands and they were quickly dispatched of.

Blaster raised, he fired off a number of bolts at each of the opponents he found, letting them fall as he retreated to the corners of the room. However, he immediately felt his feet leave the ground, this time accompanied by a sick churning in his stomach as he was thrown through the air. A large thud rang out as he went down to the ground. The third trooper let off a volley from a chainblaster, while the other let off blasts from their own weapon, forcing them into the centre of the room. Just as he was writhing on the floor, the insipid almost screechy noise of the lightsaber deflecting back the bolts went out, as the others began to move around in a circle, trapping the Sith, red lightsabers poised to battle, but never being able to focus on a single target in order to deflect beams.

It then that he remembered why he'd chosen this room. Up toward his left, toward the destroyed bookcase that he had been thrown into, a small pad with a button on it. "I wonder how a sabre reacts with water." Pulling himself up, he smashed a fist against the pad, an alarm ringing out throughout the dispensary. He'd made sure to hit the button so that the sprinkler would work in a specific area. Smoke seemed to rise from the lightsabers as they continued moving around them in an irregular formation, trying to keep them trapped. But it wouldn't work for long, the Sith gaining the upper hand now, as they slashed forward, the first casualty from their own side confirmed.

But avenging a death was his bread and butter by this point. Clasping his blaster once more, he placed his thumb on a tab, pulling it down, as something cycled into a cylindrical attachment to the bottom of the weapon. "Equip your shield." Crisp and clear. The trooper complied and watched him as he aimed straight for the middle of the group of Sith. Now emboldened, they charged. But the ace up his sleeve was ready. Priming his shield, so that he could time it with the release of the rocket, he placed a finger on the trigger. Three.. Two.. Nyoom! The rocket left the rack and approached the target.

A single bead of sweat encapsulated the time he had left. The image before him seemed to shift and morph as the blast from the rockets seemed to expand as-if in slow motion, along with the materialisation of the shield. Going down into the prone position, he let the shield do it's job as a ear-shaking, blood-curdling rumble shook the building to its very foundations. He didn't want to inspect the bodies, and left that job to his companion as he approached the door. Dematerialising the Vishnu combat shield, he whipped out a wickedly-sharp blade, a short thwip sound announcing its presence. The Nasty Blade.

Automatically, droid-like in his execution, he jabbed it deep into the lock, thumbing the apparatus that set off its secret ingredient. Another loud bang threatened the demise of the building as the lock went straight to the floor. <"Secured. Rendezvous back at the main city Ysalamiri, I'll meet you all enroute. We have someone else to deal with I feel. Golden Boy Out.">

He hoped he'd put on a good show for the spectators, at least, so far.

 

[Forlan Norsama]

Location: High Command Situation Room, Classified Location, Coruscant
Objective: Judge the hand of retribution

IVI Elizie Athacorr Damian Du Couteau Reiner Ghadi

Select politicians were given the opportunity and acknowledgement that the SIA was conducting a new operation field test, and a broadcast could be accessed via the situation room.​

Forlan had seen his fair share of combat and 'wetwork'. Enough of the latter that some of the oldtimers still called him "Buckets of Blood" even now. Frankly he was much, much more interested in hearing what the others had to say about the idea from a - moral? Political?- point of view.

He knew precisely the dangers that this Task Force might lead to in the future. The idea of the SIA being given such a mandate for anti-Sith operations now was one thing. And in all honesty, Forlan HATED the Sith. The hatred burnt like a million stars, cried like the screams of a million camp inmates, as deep as the sacred oceans of Champala. He was happy to see proactive measures to root out the Sith.

He was also not opposed to the SIA in specific being given the keys to this situation. Forlan owed his life, and the lives of hundreds of thousands of his fellow Vipers, to the aid provided by the Agency and the GADF. If nothing else, the SIA had shown that, contrary to expectations, they were far from the most oppressive, hmm, what's the word, political vector in Alliance politics.

And yet. Forlan understood the concerns people had of this. Of the slippery slope. Of the possible creeping powers. Ancient histories of the old Republics and Alliances were rife with such warnings. And had Forlan not given up control of the Vipers so many years ago precisely because he knew the corrosive nature of not just the potential for abuse, but the fear of that potential too.

"And if what is conducted here is a duplicatable process, and if so; allowing us the use of a tool to guarantee any Core, Alliance, Planet from suffering a similar fate of Teta." Damian added, his arms placed on top of the table in front of him. Hands hidden beneath his long sleeves as they overlapped one another.​

And what if it was not just Sith influence? A hundred things could cause a world to destabilise, not necessarily to defect, but enough to cause opportunists to chance the gamble. Perhaps the young princeling could not see that

"The real question, before military contracts are discussed or future operations planned, is how we can pursue the Alliance and the other Senators at large that these course of actions are needed." Damian spoke, the firmness of his voice betraying his true feelings, his fingers tapping vigorously on either of his knuckles. Hidden beneath his choice of clothing.​

And so the question of whether this was even the best option fell by the wayside so easily.

The effectiveness of the operatives will speak well enough for the project. Results are a powerful thing, no matter what the naysayers may have to say on the matter."​

Results. The oh-so impartial be-all end-all of metrics, as every tyrant of the protractor and the paper, proclaims. Forlan wondered if the Imperialist knew how obvious it was that perhaps not every facet of the "result" might be amenable to most people.

"Those who refuse to see reason simply need to be reminded of the price that the Alliance has paid for not taking appropriate measures. Allowing this darkness to fester within our borders would be nothing short of treason."​

Appropriate measures? Forlan tried to keep the scowl from his face. Appropriate measures would have been lining every ex-Imperial against the wall and giving them a quick tour of the GADF's new armaments program. Appropriate measures would have allowed those who raised concerns of Solipsis under his old disguise to rally support to strip him of every credit to his name. Appropriate measures-

And then Forlan's doubts crystalised. No matter how much he trusted the SIA or GADF or supported the use of such measures against Sith, how could he trust the next M or the next Marshal commander or the next Defence Chair would not expand the remit of such measures to other forms of disagreement that would be obviously "nothing short of treason"?

Forlan raised his hand.

"I feel that, as much as we can see the effects of this policy, we have not raised sufficient discussion or concerns over it. I understand more than most the importance of destroying the Sith, but I feel we are not considering further... improvements to the current proposal. For the matter of Sith, should we not consider that operating in conjunction with the Jedi would... deliver more results, given their expertise at this sort of matter? And for the matter of oversight, I believe that SIA should not solely oversee such matters. Perhaps planetary governors or relevant Senators should be at least notified or given some control in conducting a broader policy of rooting out anti-Sith and other fundamentally anti-Alliance movements."

He knew he had to pick his words carefully. M was no amateur. She'd picked exactly the people she wanted at this table to generate a discussion on how to butter this policy to the other Senators, not a discussion of practice. Forlan could hazard a guess as to why she'd invited him: he was a new Senator, but a war hero, and one not amenable at all to the Sith. She either expected him to support her on this or happily go with the crowd given his new status in the Senate. Forlan was sad to say she might be disappointed.

 

[Auteme]

IVI Elizie Athacorr Damian Du Couteau Reiner Ghadi Forlan Norsama ​

Auteme hadn't been sure as to her purpose here until the killing started. The fanaticism of the cultists was startling; a vicious reminder of the Sith's skills of indoctrination, of the power of fear. That's certainly what most at the table were meant to see. But to her, this wasn't a matter of the Sith. Far more important were the effects on the Alliance. Not merely of outward political policy, of the pure stance of absolute opposition to the dark side -- something she might actually support, depending on how it was handled. No, the message the SIA's Director was sending her was far different.

Look upon my power. Look at the carnage I can create, the violence at my disposal. Even in the freest nation in the galaxy, this would exist. How many have passed me without challenge, without resisting? There are things beyond even the Chancellor.

M was a mysterious person. Director of the SIA she may be, she acted far less as an administrator than as a spy herself. Auteme had been on the Intelligence Committee nearly since the beginning of her time in the Senate, and even she could catch only brief glimpses of the director. More often it would be some subordinate giving flimsy information and simple cover-ups for the SIA's harshest missions. The director herself only emerged to affect politics -- to convince key Senators to support certain bills and say certain things.

Auteme didn't believe M had more power than the Chancellor. She was closer to an old spider -- waiting, pulling strands, collecting flies, spreading only when the time was right. A shadowy influence, an undercurrent to the goings-on in the political arena above. Still, it was that power that seemed so dangerous. Killers and operatives willing to strike down even the most dangerous Sith cults. Only a few more steps, and they might be convinced to strike down anyone. A threat -- simple, direct.

If I so chose, you would be gone.

Auteme couldn't be sure if M was right or not, but it was certainly convincing.

Yet from the woman herself, Auteme detected a cold indifference. Not a threat, perhaps, but a statement of fact.

Look upon my power.

And how far could Auteme reach, if that power was on her side?

Think too much like that, and they'll be deployed to kill a real Sith, she thought. No, not a threat. An offer. An opportunity.

A dangerous, terrible one to take. Auteme was silent, sitting at the far end of the table, while those closer to the front discussed the effects of such a no-tolerance policy. Most seemed amenable or outright supportive of it.

But even among those the Director had selected to show this demonstration, there were surprises. Senator Norsama spoke out -- tentatively -- against the current form of proposed policy. It was clear he understood both the situation he was in and the effects this could have. The courage to speak, and the wit to do so tactfully, were rare commodities. Auteme found a dearth of both in herself. She managed a subtle nod to the Chagrian, but spoke no support, made no action.

Her run for the Chancellorship, fast-approaching as the election was, had made her game longer, forced a greater understanding of her position. Compared to her current influence and intelligence capabilities, the SIA was impossibly strong, along with the woman at its head. It would be ill-advised to make an enemy of such a person, and worse still to not know everything possible about them.

Auteme stayed silent, watching carefully, listening closely.

 

[Elizie Athacorr]

"I see," she responded as the Chiss Director answered her question, gray eyes briefly appraising the SIA leader. There was something being left unsaid, given present company, of that she was certain. She was a hard being to read in any situation regardless, but she suspected a longer and more private conversation on how Arkania might aid the program's development would happen in the future.

She was in line to agree with Senators Du Couteau and Ghadi as they spoke up, although her attention had shifted to the camera streams as the task force began to raid locations and engage hostiles. Regrettable, really, to see such promising individuals being wiped out, but they had chosen to embrace the Maw instead of staying hidden. It was no issue for her or her compatriots if the Maw lost more followers.

Her gaze shifted from the cams as the Senator from Champala voiced his concerns, and while she took in his words, her gaze kept moving to the young woman seeking the Chancellorship. It was her opinions and thoughts she was most interested in hearing, and Auteme seemed deep in contemplation as she watched the scenes playing out before them, not giving too much away.

"Involving planetary leadership and Senators could very well create unforeseen complications for such operations though, Senator," she replied, turning her chair slightly to regard the Chagrain. "The purpose of this task force would be to minimize the red tape, I would presume, so we can strike at such hidden enemies before they become too deeply embedded. As for working with the Jedi, it has its pros and cons. They certainly have expertise in the field of confronting Sith, but the participation of Jedi also puts Sith and their cultists on guard, might induce them to contemplate more severe options or disappear underground to await a better moment. A Sith confronted by a non-Force Sensitive individual will meet such a potential fight with scorn and arrogance bordering on absurdity in their own expectation of easily dealing with such a pest, in their eyes, and there lies some of the genius of specially trained and equipped force could do."

Still, there was something to be said about appearing to address such concerns. She turned her head to address M.

"Perhaps a clause in the proposal that the unit is only to remain operational for the duration of the conflict?" she offered.

IVI Auteme Damian Du Couteau Reiner Ghadi Forlan Norsama

 

[IVI]

THE SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR
THE ERA OF RECLAMATION
OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | HIGH COMMAND SITUATION ROOM

Unless a question was explicitly directed to her, M remained silent and observant. Her evaluative glances moved subtly between the projections of her agents in the field and the senators who glanced verbal blows at one another.

Whether or not they reached a conclusion today, sparking debate and seeing who weighed in on what, and to what end, was always useful information.

The conversation was good, healthy, and impactful. The minds that back-and-forthed were as sharp as their tongues.

Damian Du Couteau youth brought up engagement and permissions, the importance of How
Reiner Ghadi countered by dismissing the need to consider scale and only rely on proof points. When the scale’s bridge needed to be crossed, they would take it one step at a time.

Agent Borra’s blows to a Sith Chiss brought a frown to her face. Not for his performance, but the disappointment that one of her species had been so blind, and allowed themselves to be consumed by their uncontrolled desires.

Driver ’s engagement patterns were similar to Agent Borra’s. Tiric Sar'andor 's was with a little more flare, more traditional to the GADF’s approach to an unmarked location and entrance. But the proof was being made with each of their successes. One less Sith each time.

Unlike the Jedi, there were no second chances given to the Sith. Each man of Task Force Y thought on their feet, and resourcefully. They thought with their equipment, weapons, and environment. Unreliant on the metaphysical.

In minutes, The Maw had a handful fewer followers than they’d had at the start of the day.

For the matter of Sith, should we not consider that operating in conjunction with the Jedi would... deliver more results, given their expertise at this sort of matter? And for the matter of oversight, I believe that SIA should not solely oversee such matters. Perhaps planetary governors or relevant Senators should be at least notified or given some control in conducting a broader policy of rooting out anti-Sith and other fundamentally anti-Alliance movements."

Her ruby gaze lifted from the rubble being projected on the screen as the cameras of Task Force Y started to converge their routes, showing they were collectively navigating to the rendezvous point. Her tongue, however, did not engage. She continued to demonstrate patient silence, offering the opportunity for those who made a career of discussion to boast their prowess.

She anticipated Auteme to leap at the opportunity to promote the involvement of her precious — but abandoned — New Jedi Order. And, it came as a surprise, that the youthful politician remained as quiet as herself.

A small, untellable twitch pulled at the corner of her mouth.

Another anticipation, more reliable, was the Senator of Arkania’s involvement. Delicate, balanced, and well-rounded, the woman addressed the raised concerns with a peculiar level of insight into Sith behaviour. Things M had observed through the wars, but her curiosity peaked at the frankness of which the blonde seemed to speak.

M was content to remain uninvolved, but the conversation turned back to her.

She made a sound at the back of her throat as if she were considering the adjustment to her proposal. She wasn’t, of course, but politicians liked to be heard. She could tell them yes, and off-the-record do as she pleased.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Perhaps,” Was all she said and leaned back in her seat. The war started in the shadows. It would be foolish for anyone to think it could end otherwise.

Just as foolish as one would be to think they could flash off a shiny new toy in front of a bunch of beurocrats and not expect to be moderated.

If M didn't want participation, anticipation and involvement, she wouldn't have invited them.

“The extent of the proposal as you know it, senators, is merely to inform you that this opportunity exists.

The how’s, and when’s, are anticipated to be independent of one engagement to the next. With Jedi,” she gestured with her left hand and swept outward “Without Jedi,” the right mirrored the same movement

“Informing planetary oversight,” the left hand folded back in. “Keeping it to the defence force's knowledge and jurisdiction only,” the right hand met the left hand and steepled in front of her.

“These are all rules of engagement that can be altered as the situation demands. Such is the benefit of a unique task force that does not fit our traditional template.”

---

TASK FORCE YSALAMARI: Tiric Sar'andor | Dominik Borra | Phaineve Halseigh | Vyn Daldoure | Driver | Xandyr | Colton Renfro
MARSHALS | OPEN
SENATORS | Damian Du Couteau | Reiner Ghadi | Auteme | Elizie Athacorr | Forlan Norsama

 

[Forlan Norsama]

Location: High Command Situation Room, Classified Location, Coruscant
Objective: Judge the hand of retribution

IVI Elizie Athacorr Damian Du Couteau Reiner Ghadi
Auteme Elizie Athacorr

A Sith confronted by a non-Force Sensitive individual will meet such a potential fight with scorn and arrogance bordering on absurdity in their own expectation of easily dealing with such a pest, in their eyes, and there lies some of the genius of specially trained and equipped force could do.

Forlan kept from biting his lip. Of course. He knew well from personal experience how sloppy Sith got against what they considered their far inferiors. He was a fool both for forgetting and not preparing for this point of argument, for it was a good one. Had he grown soft in semi-retirement?

The how’s, and when’s, are anticipated to be independent of one engagement to the next. With Jedi,” she gestured with her left hand and swept outward “Without Jedi,” the right mirrored the same movement

“Informing planetary oversight,” the left hand folded back in. “Keeping it to the defence force's knowledge and jurisdiction only,” the right hand met the left hand and steepled in front of her.

“These are all rules of engagement that can be altered as the situation demands. Such is the benefit of a unique task force that does not fit our traditional template.”

"The Senator from Arkania is very right on one count: the Sith are easily overconfident against those they deem... inferior, though I doubt the Sith inside the Alliance in the present day holds the same dismissive contempt for their prey after decades of tenacious resistance from their enemies. They are cunning and a pestilence: they will eventually adapt, and I believe we must at least discuss now what possible future counter-adaptations-" he left the word hanging for a moment. They all knew what he meant. Expanded surveillance, increasing 'security protocols', growing tools of control- "on our part should be off the table or adjusted."

"That is why, Director, while I understand that now the policy is flexible, we must understand the ramifications of this internal war with Sith suspects. We are all aware it is a long, drawn-out, bloody affair that the Dark Worms excel in dragging others into. We must be wary and come to some understanding on the possible future misuse or misfire of this larger policy. Not under the current administration-" he glanced at Auteme before looking back directly at M- "nor oversight, but over potential future controllers of these, hmm, levers of power."

 

[Tiric Sar'andor]

-

​

DIVINE_RETRIBUTION

Location: Apartment Block 65721C, North Cinnegar, Empress Teta, Core Worlds
Unit: Task Force Ysalamiri
Objective: Eliminate a target
Equipment:

Mobile Jetpack
Black Armourweave Cloak
Dual Feverwasps w/ Suppressors
Concealed Vambraces
Combat Knife
Sonic Detonators

THE AUDIENCE:
Elizie Athacorr | Auteme | Forlan Norsama | Reiner Ghadi | Damian Du Couteau
THE TEAM:
Dominik Borra | Phaineve Halseigh | Colton Renfro | Vyn Daldoure | Driver
THE TARGET:
Ishani Dinn

​

The bombed-out ruins of Northern Cinnegar passed below his feet almost as if he'd fast forwarded in time. He wished had his helmet off and could just let the wind whip through his hair, grace his face, and envelop him in its liberating embrace. But alas, he had a job to do here, and armour or no armour, he was going to complete it, whatever it took.

Coming to a sharp halt just above an apartment block, he shot out an armoured arm and pointed down. "There. First Floor." Nodding to his companion who returned the recognition, he felt the dizzying change in altitude, as the ground got closer and closer, the world around him began to enlarge itself, becoming clearer and more visible. A thought in the back of his mind tried to imagine the warzone surrounding him as a bustling metropolis, and not as the kingdom of rubble it currently looked like.

Contact with the ferrocrete produced a grounded feeling in him as he came to rest now, spotting Dominik, their weapons expert, with that distinct fresh-off-an-operation swagger approaching, along with Driver who seemed to have adopted a similar temprament. It was certainly interesting.. and Tiric wasn't exactly going to discourage it. In this line of work, he'd discovered that you needed all the confidence you could get. Anything less, or more, meant death.

There was satisfying click as he removed his helmet and held it under his arm. The world seemed to morph from the analytical portrait that he viewed through the heads-up display, a world of heart rates, loadouts, and temperature readings, to the view of the naked eye. Something that he felt much more comfortable with. Tiric had never really been a fan of armour anyways. "Welcome." He spun sharply to face the operative who'd accompanied him to the dispensary.

"Get the presents ready please, Tam."

"Sir!" Came the sharp reply, and the operative hurried into a first floor apartment. "I'll assume all objectives were completed with maximum efficiency. The task that I present you now is much more challenging one." He put a hand through his short cut dirty blonde hair. "I'll explain everything inside, and I've also got some new toys for you to play with." Tiric had to stop a smile from forming at the edges of his mouth. The equipment that he had managed to procure had come at great expense to the more.. unsavoury elements of the SIA, and he would do well to keep it all well-oiled.

"Follow me."

Helmet under his arm, he sauntered toward the same apartment the operative had entered. A broken and neglected facade greeted them, a long defective protocol greeter droid still stood at the entrance. The head of the droid had long since fallen off its Thorax. The paint on it had long since peeled away, revealing its black, wiry innards, thousands of connections and technology needed to make it work long since disregarded. Stepping past, he made a quick glance behind him and as soon as the coast was clear let everyone in, making sure to lock the door twice behind him.

"Home sweet home." He muttered dryly. The last thing the apartment could be described as was homely. The only light that streamed through the circular viewports was natural. The only other light source was a flickering holotable in the centre of the living room. Trash, from spare droid parts to food waste was strewn across the floor. Plain stark white walls long stripped of any colour showed worrying cracks in them. Stepping over the discarded torso of an astromech droid, he wandered into a vast, high-ceilinged room where a family might have sat to dinner.

Now barren except for a square holotable, anything that could make this place seem like a place to live had been removed. The stack of blaster rifles in the corner of the room seemed to be the only permanent residence. A blue glow emanated from the table, a holographic model of the city of Cinnegar - accurate to its current situation, displayed across the length of the table. The other operative, now revealed to be a dark-haired Mirialan woman with a verdant-green complexion dealt with a large grey crate that sat near the holotable.

"Now that we're all here, let's begin. This target is confirmed to have worked alongside a number of prominent users of the dark-side of the Force. These include the infamous Darth Miasma. And he must be eliminated." He raised his arm horizontally to bring his holocommunicator to view. An image of Silas Fogg mid-swing materialized in a holographic form. "The target is to be eliminated. Though he could be very dangerous, so we packed heavy."

Tiric ambled over to the crate, reaching side and removing a sniper blaster with a large barrel and tossing it over to Dom. "Not the only thing I got for ya Double G." He made sure not to reveal the name while on the feed as to keep operational security, but he imagined that little tid-bit of information was enough to excite the unit's weapon's specialist. He also now struggled to haul out a large triple-barreled scattergun with a burnt metal finish and placed it in a large black duffel bag. Handing the bag over to his comrade, he rummaged around in the crate to see what he could find.

Bringing out a contraption that looked like it was to be worn around the wrist and handed it to Driver . "Something for you." He also brought out another one for himself. Whistling idly, he brought out a number of grenades mounted on bandoliers. "Sonic and EMP Grenades." Tiric took one and handed off more to the other members of the squad. Making sure also to hand off a heavy-looking hand cannon to Driver. Nodding, satisfied, he stepped back. "Right, I need to go and get changed, help yourself to any weapons you please." Jogging upstairs, he made sure he had allowed everyone to pick as they pleased for the mission.

Appearing a few minutes later, he wore simple civilian clothing, with his bodysuit underneath and a large cloak enveloping him. His combat knife sat on a holster at the side of his shin, and the vambrace was concealed underneath the long arm of the cover. Underneath the garment, he'd also taken a smaller, low-powered jetpack and the bandolier he'd shown earlier. Unusually however, he held two action figures in his hands. One was a miniature version of Dagon Kaze and the other depicted Valery Noble .

"Right people." He announced as he stood on the stairs. "It's going to take some work to get this target. It's no use confronting him head on, that's a death sentence. So we use surprise and subterfuge." Hopping down from the step, he moved back into the centre of the room so he could be better heard. "We have his last known location. I need you all to follow me as I attempt to distract him with my cover. I'll pose as a salesman and go up to the target to distract and confuse him. The rest of you follow me, but blend in with the crowd. Don't fire a single shot unless you have my express order. Double G. I need you in the rafters, tracking the target."

He paused for a moment, placing two hands on the holotable. "Make sure everyone is at range. Take on the target from multiple angles and keep moving. Don't stop and let him make you a target. When I order, Dom takes the first shot and we pursue. The code word for my order will be rustbucket, but keep in mind I'll embed it within a sentence."

"Also, something important." A long sigh escaped his lips. "Make sure he doesn't use his tricks on you. A Jedi once told me, the best way to shield your mind, is to think about something else. Think about a strange memory, or one that makes you angry and embody that emotion so much that it clouds the mind of whoever is trying to read it." It was a technique that he was never sure would ever come in hand, but was indispensable to the current mission.

"Any questions? If not, Phase Two of operation dee arr is go."

 

[Driver]

OPERATION: DIVIVE_RETRIBUTION
Allies: Dominik Borra , Colton Renfro, Tiric Sar'andor , Phaineve Halseigh , Vyn Daldoure
Enemies: Ishani Dinn
Other: IVI , Auteme , Elizie Athacorr , Forlan Norsama , Reiner Ghadi , Damian Du Couteau ​

<"Secured. Rendezvous back at the main city Ysalamiri, I'll meet you all enroute. We have someone else to deal with I feel. Golden Boy Out.">

Driver received the order loud and clear. He wasted no time setting off towards the rendezvous, where he grouped up with the rest of his squad. Their temporary hq was anything but flashy; A rundown, first floor apartment room that was practically falling apart.

"Home sweet home."

“Real homely,” Driver sarcastically remarked as he observed the room.

The state of the apartment didn’t keep his attention for long. Tiric mentioned that they had a new target, some Darth Maisma. This was immediately proceeded by the handing out of new equipment. It was a Vambrace, not unlike that used by the Mandalorians. Fortunately, Driver had gathered that not much changed in their combat style in the last 800 plus years. He had been trained by Mandalorians in preparation for the Clone Wars, so wrist mounted weaponry was nothing foreign to him. In addition to this, he was provided with a heavy hand cannon, a rather formidable disruptor from the looks of it. The hand cannon was a no brainer. Lightsabers typically didn’t match up against disruptors too well.

“I guess Life Day came early,” the clone remarked with a grin as he assessed his new tech.

Tiric departed to change, telling the rest of the squad to help themselves to the remaining gear. Driver picked up a few Sonic grenades, as he had used his last thermal detonator to blow up the last Sith he fought. He leaned against the back corner of the apartment and began fiddling with the vambrace. It had a flame thrower, a built in laser, a hidden dart launcher, and even a recon drone. It came as no surprise to Driver when he found the wrist-worn contraption to be decently heavy. Not that it bothered him much. The clone was used to heavy armor. As he slipped the device on his arm, Tiric returned in new attire and continued to detail the target.

Driver took mental notes as important information was thrown at him, especially the bit about the target using mind tricks. He would need to keep that in the back of his head as they proceeded.

"Any questions? If not, Phase Two of operation dee arr is go."

“No, sir,” Driver replied.

The clone was ready to get on with the mission. It was good to proceed with caution, but they couldn’t wait for too long. They had an audience, after all.

 

[Dominik Borra]

OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
LOCATION: Apartment Block 65721C, Empress Teta, Ruins of Cinnagar
GEAR: Armor, Amulet of Many, DC-17m Weapon System, FDS-15S Scattergun MagRifle, Heavy Blaster Pistol
TAGS: IVI | Tiric Sar'andor | Phaineve Halseigh | Vyn Daldoure | Driver | Xandyr | Colton Renfro |

Fortune Days

​

It always did feel good to finish a mission, especially when it hadn't been all that boring. The feeling of a job well done and triumph moved through him as he walked down the broken street towards the rendezvous point with Tiric and Driver. Respectively, their codenames were 'Golden Boy' and... well, Driver hadn't been given a codename yet. Seemed like quite the oversight before the mission, but he was also a clone and 'Driver' was probably a name he took on rather than one given to him.

He watched the flying soldiers land and as Tiric ordered a soldier with him to go secure the packages, Dominik turned to the solider and let him know where they were, and that the door to the basement didn't fully open.

He then followed into the run down trash heap where they were getting new gear for some new target. Apparently those watching weren't convinced, needed them to hunt down a bigger fish. But there was always a bigger fish. "I've picked up payloads in some terrible places." Dominik noted outloud. "But I can say that this tops the list."

Tiric began pulling weapons out of the crate, which seemed completely wrong to be here in the middle of the chaotic room. Dominik was handed another scattergun of sorts, and a sniper blaster. He examined them and looked at his MagRifle scattergun. It had been hit with force lightning, and the weapon releid on carefully controlled magnetic pulses to fling the ammunition out at terribly high speeds. All he needed was one faulty thing being blown and it might send the ammo backwards into his shoulder. It was a beauty, but damaged. Would need to be repaired before he relied on it again. His DC-17m kit could also have been damaged, including all the gas canisters. He hadn't even been able to use it this mission, which was sad. But with grenades and a sniper blaster, it was hardly needed. He discarded the weapon along with everything else that went with it, placing them in the crate for safe keeping. He wanted them back.

[[GEAR UPDATED: Armor, Amulet of Many, DC-17m Weapon System, FDS-15S Scattergun MagRifle, Heavy Blaster Pistol, Doombringer, Sniper Blaster]]

As he examined the guns he had been given over more thoroughly, he liked them more and more. He let out a whistle. "I'm guessing you want these back afterward, huh? No keeping these presents?" He took a sonic grenade and a few thermals. He had to smile when he saw Tiric come down with two action figures of all things. It wasn't often you got to see your task force leader holding toys.

His mind went into memorization mode as Golden Boy detailed the plan. Stay up, keep an eye, be the first to fire when he gave the word. Then he gave the advice Dom was taught years and years ago by the Sith to hide his mind from Jedi, when hunting the good guys was part of his missions. He nodded as he finished and confirmed it. "That works. If you focus your mind on killing him, the force will tell him. Keep the mission in mind, but don't dwell on anything harmful towards him. Bring up something else to your mind and the force won't have anything to tell him." He was loading the new scattergun slowly. "Same thing goes for when you're planting bombs or setting up a trap. Just don't think much when setting it up or springing it, and you're golden. Works even better if you can give them something to focus on, a dummy danger that you do think about and they can focus on, and the real danger is sneaking up on them. Rewiring droids, blowing out airlock doors, rigging the hyperdrive to only take half the ship..." He trailed off, realizing he was giving examples of tactics he had actually used in the past against Jedi. And they were still being broadcast. He shut up and nodded again to Tiric.

"Let's make him disappear." Dominik agreed, pumping the action of the scattergun.

 

[Reiner Ghadi]

Tags: IVI , Elizie Athacorr , Damian Du Couteau , Auteme , Forlan Norsama

The discussions continued, and Reiner listened quietly to the others as they shared their thoughts. The most intriguing presence to the senator was that of Auteme, who had opted to remain quite quiet through the discussion. A smart play, on her part, as she had much at stake with the coming election. Perhaps something he would take a mental note of, as he always did with those he did not trust. It wasn't anything personal, Reiner had simply lost faith in the Jedi long ago. Their efforts served the Alliance, once, and only a fool would deny that.

Yet... times change.

Another presence making itself known was that of Senator Norsama. The Chagrian had a reputation, particularly as a war hero. Reiner hadn't crossed his path in the field, but he had heard the stories. Many might have been impressed with such a wartime resume, but Reiner had his own accomplishments, and thus would find himself feeling rather unfazed by the man's reputation. Despite this, with that reputation came experience, and it would be foolish to not humor the man by addressing his concerns.

"While the Jedi have served us well in the past, I'm afraid that they are susceptible to the wiles of the Sith in ways unique to them. I am not so certain that they should be given the ability to work alongside such a force."

Reiner would keep his true thoughts on the Jedi at bay, for now. Though he wished to see the Jedi further pushed to the wayside, he understood that many didn't share such an opinion. And what was politics, if not keeping a few little secrets to yourself?

He leaned back in his chair for a moment, pondering the other comments as the conversation continued. Though such a force would need no such oversight on behalf of his own planetary government, Reiner could see the source of the concern. It wasn't a concern he shared, but it didn't come as a surprise that others felt that it was necessary to voice.

"I agree that planetary involvement could breed results that are less than ideal. We need to maintain a level of secrecy in such operations, after all."

He shot a quick glance toward M, the faint hint of a smile upon his usually stoic face. The Director was one that understood the need for secrets, as well as the placation of bureaucrats... a quality that resonated with him. Perhaps there was future work to be done with her... another mental note to be added to the vault of his mind.

"Of course, there will always be room for flexibility..."

His gaze returned to the Chagrian as he spoke.

"Even if we were to speak of amending this proposal, things could change in the future, whatever the outcome of today may be. I, for one, welcome further opportunity to root out this blight..."

A brief pause followed as his eyes drifted back toward the screen.

"No matter where it may emerge."

 

[Vyn Daldoure]

OPERATION: DIVINE_RETRIBUTION
LOCATION: Apartment Block 65721C, Empress Teta, Ruins of Cinnagar
Team: Dominik Borra , Tiric Sar'andor , Colton Renfro, Phaineve Halseigh , Driver​

Vyn Was particularly late for the party walking Into the apartment and giving a slight nod to those around, He'd tuned in just long enough to hear the basics, keep quiet identify the target, and instantaneous elimination of the chess piece. He'd brought what he needed, under the cloak of his Icarus armor was the standard equipment the Iridonian always kept with him. raising his fist to his mouth and thinking about the situation. Nerves crept their way up, he'd done this before, and the last time it ended up with everyone besides him dead and forgotten.

On his left arm was his gauntlet, it felt extra tight as everyone grabbed a new set of gear for themselves. after the briefing was over he'd watched Dominik go over tactics, if only Vyn's father had gone about it that way, instead, the boy had his mind invaded again and again on repeat until it was a fortress, any secrets he had were mute, so the point of attack became simple, only think about the attack itself.

"Mind games are one thing, but if they use physical force, I don't think there's any need to remind anyone here to break the sith's concentration... better yet let me become the subject of attack... I'm augmented enough that I can take it for a while." The bait... that's what he signed up for, yet when he thought about it, nothing but a smile came to his face. He pulled out the Cortosis Vibroblade inspecting the edge before sheathing it back under the cloak then checked his blaster pistol... he was an amazingly good shot, but also understood why he was chosen for hand to hand, He was augmented to a near unrecognizable degree, some might even say cyborg would be a better word, that and his Iridonian physiology mixed with the combat training he'd received under the NIO made it a clear decider.

"No extra questions... let's get this done" Why had Vyn come back to this same line of work... direction or the loss of it, drive, fear, he wasn't sure. He made sure the GA knew it was temporary, yet something about it felt right.

 

[Elizie Athacorr]

The response from the Director did not surprise her in the slightest, and to be perfectly blunt, her suggestion had essentially been an empty gesture towards the concerns of the Chagrain. She settled back into her chair, head turning away to watch the operation on Empress Teta continue even as she kept one ear focused on the conversation of those around the table.

If only the Senator from Champala knew exactly how right his words were about the Sith adapting their game in the shadows. The cultists and such that were being rooted out by this proposed task force were tied to the Maw. She had thought Solipsis should remain in the Senate, or at least keep some sort of influence there, but then he had decided to strike far too early and now he was dead, and the Maw had no ability to influence the Senate or the Alliance infrastructure. If anything, the Empire was more of an immediate threat with the Imperialist bloc to manipulate Senate debates and military deployments.

Still, it was quietly amusing that Forlan continued to voice his unease about what a future Director or Chancellor might direct such a task force towards. And Reiner certainly wasn't incorrect that the Jedi had proven susceptible to manipulation by the Sith, and her gaze shifted momentarily to Auteme. She had allied with Fossk before his big reveal, some had even called her his protege, and she felt if the former Voice had more patience, he might have succeeded in turning her.

"I concur with Reiner," she said simply. "If we focused on all the what ifs and hypotheticals on every proposed task force, organization, or bill, we would be still debating the Alliance's founding documents. I think, and correct me if I'm wrong Auteme, there is a Jedi saying about how the future is always in motion. Such worries should be worries if evidence arises those abuses are starting, and we have plenty of oversight in the Intelligence Committee already for that I would hope, or otherwise why even have it in the first place?"

IVI Reiner Ghadi Forlan Norsama Auteme Damian Du Couteau