The Spark [GA]

[Lyra Sunfell]

Lyra listened, hands folded beneath her chin. This was getting more and more interesting as it progressed. Quite a motley collection of troops, but they should be able to make an effective intelligence strike, especially with Twilight in resesrve.

"Firebird's a corvette," she commented. "Faster than the frigates. Easier to get planet-side and off again. Heavier support in the air than even our gunships. I'm Captain Sunfell, CO of the 61st. Mandalorian by birth, Alliance by choice. Know a bit of everything. Logistics and company command as well."

She accessed one of the datapads that had been prepared for the briefing and pulled up the information they had. It wasn't much, but they could get things to work, especially with jacking the speeders.

It didn't take long, but she found a list of speeder garages and shops within the vicinity of the spaceport. These were all public knowledge and she marked them on a map. "Do we know of any criminal elements in the city that could be persuaded to procure some speeders?"

The woman rubbed a thumb along her chin. "They'll know the local climate better. Places with weaker security. Looks less like a foreign intrusion if local crime elements perform the heist."

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Razelle tried not to smirk to herself when the others confirmed almost every one of her predictions. Sharpshooter, street kid, young untested officer. The cyborg continued to be a bit of a spanner in her works, of course. It was difficult to gauge someone with such a vague job description, which Razelle realized was a bit hypocritical considering what her "job" was. She waited for the rest to finish before she spoke up. This kindergarten "share your name and something special about you" drek was a bit more farcical than she'd expected, coming out of another retirement.

"Private Razelle Breuner. I'm here on request," she began, then ran down her list of things she could do. How many of those did these people actually need to know? How much was safe to tell them? If there were any plants here, this would be the quickest way to find them, and the quickest way to get herself killed. But if she withheld important assets from the team, she'd be compromising mission integrity. She needed a good compromise. It took her a noticeable pause to reach that point.

"In the last week I've been certified in small arms, CQC, demolitions, and security," the blonde began, her tongue riding the inside of her lip where a stick wasn't. God she was going to be glad to be out in the field again. Regulations were fine here, but not on her stims. "I'm also pretty good at improvising."

SIS had also certified her - "provisionally" - in EOD, land, sea, atmospheric, and space transport vehicular operation, general maintenance, as well as weapons, land, and space transport maintenance, reconnaissance, spotting, and marksmanship. She didn't fail the first aid course, either. This was all information that this group didn't need, and that any moles could have used against her. This was the First Order, after all. They were just better at espionage most of the time. No telling how deep their talons were in this room, specifically.

"Sunfell's on the right track. Local smugglers would know routes to avoid the First Order," the sociopath-in-withdrawal continued. "But they'd also be hesitant to give us that information, as the second we use it, the local authority would have a dramatically increased impetus to crack down. It's an angle. We just need to provide motivation." And really, if they were only making life difficult for the lawbreakers, that wasn't a big deal. There would always be ways around the rule of law.

[member="Noah Corek"] [member="Lyra Sunfell"] [member="Kyle Farnes"]

 

[Mathieu Bahreiko]

[member="Razelle Breuner"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Noah Corek"]​

​

Mathieu bit one corner of his lips and turned to look at the Mon Calamari General and the older woman with him, but they were both turning and leaving the room. A thin smile came over his features; no objection and leaving the room, it was as subtle and tacit as could be from one's commanders. This was now fully his op to run, and that meant that while HIGHCOM might not opose anything they came up, he understood that he would have to answer for anything that was done during the operation. Results were sought, and they would be rewarded, but it was up to him to make the delicate balance between doing what was needed and keeping their hands as clean as possible. He wasn't blind to the truth that every military, from the First Order to the Galactic Alliance, had acts which shamed them and brought them misery. It was not a preferred outcome, and it was something he wanted to avoid at almost all costs.

"We'll evaluate trustworthiness of local elements once we get to the planet. I won't swear them off, but I'm not about to make a plan around their willingness to help." In spite of his own background, or perhaps because of it, Mathieu knew that there were a lot of dangers to be had from including criminal elements into a plan like this. "Besides that, involving them runs the risk of them revealing our presence on the planet for a possible bounty or a chance of amnesty. We won't know for sure how this will go for us until we get onto the planet. Any disenfranchised groups can be sought out, but we must be careful not to tip off the local First Order personnel. Be prepared to conduct operations with just those of us in the room."

For a while, the topic was logistics; what kind of armor could they smuggle in a pack or wear that wouldn't arouse suspicion if they were inspected, what kinds of weapons would best penetrate First Order armor while still being concealable. Most were being allowed to pack their kits as they saw fit, but there was a need to ensure they had the necessary gear to slice into the First Order datanet or set off explosives if they needed and Mathieu made sure that everyone understood that. As that conversation was had, he realized there was still at least one other piece of the op that they needed to discuss. "In the event that something happens to me, I'm naming Noah Corek as second-in-command." Between the man's experience and rank, he was the obvious pick. "We'll go over the known First Order garrison schematics. We'll have a section of the gymnasium on the floor to ourselves for four hours at 1630, which gives us-" he looked down at his chronometer "-just under an hour to come up with a few infiltration plans. We'll hit the gymnasium, run a few simulated runs and make sure everyone's up to snuff on the basics." Not everyone on the team was used to ground operations, and while he didn't intend to use folks in areas they weren't trained for, he wanted a basic level of competency established before they got to the planet. "Ideally we'd have more time and intel to do these drills, but this is all we've got. So let's make it count."