Public Traffic Stop

[Delilah Brujav]

Location: In Orbit above Bastion

The position she was to be assigned to was ridiculous, especially for one of her standing, but she had her orders and force be damned if she wasn't to carry it out. Standing on the bridge of the Acclimation, Captain Brujav was to oversee the traffic coming in and out of the capital of the Empire. She wasn't the only one doing this assignment, but rather, she was tasked with one of the busier sectors. She had an important job to do, the security of the space around the capital was at stake. She stood over her main console, monitoring the several dozen ids that were moving towards the checkpoint in uniform chaos. Thankfully she was capable, a lesser captain might have had a stroke. After getting a grip on the situation, she knew how she was going to handle this. She began barking orders, and the tension on the bridge shattered into something of a well oiled machine; albeit with a little bit of squeaking coming from the gears. "Commander, scramble Tie Squadron One. I want all of the Squadrons to rotate out of shift every two hours, keep the following squad on standby. I want them prepared if they need to be scrambled." "Yes captain." He responded, as he began calling the squad to assemble.

Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance, as it seemed he hadn't given them prior notice; sloppy. She'd have to file a demerit on his report for this. She overheard to the ensigns taking on the calls, trying their best to pull up ids and signatures, and knew it was going to be a long day. It seemed no matter how long someone was in the academy, they just couldn't get their heads on straight, it was rather annoying. She began her slow pace across the deck, looking down into the pits of the lower officers, catching the terrified glances they shot up towards her, as they attempted to go about their work. Her voice was rather to the point, as she let her boots ring off the deck plate, hands folded behind her back as she spoke. "If there are any difficulties, redirect the call to me. But only if it is an emergency. Do not forget to order a scan upon a cargo or freighter, and if they appear to have hostile intentions you are to make me aware immediately. Failure to comply with these orders, and I will royally ruin your career." She spun on her right heel, facing the rest of the crew, as her back was to the view port. "Am I understood?" She asked, only to receive a thunderous, "Yes ma'am!", in response. She merely sighed and shook her head, turning her gaze to the sight beyond, before accessing the front console under the view port. It was a pain to have the console raised to accommodate her height, but thankfully someone was willing to accommodate the request, and now the effects on her work would be kept to a minimum.

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Frielle sat in her modified X-Wing and checked her chrono. Running this sort of operation over Bastion wasn't going to be easy and to evade any sense of sector security was even harder. The granddaughter of Fiolette Raaf radioed to other pilots to be ready, there were advantages to being so small and being many in number. Frielle had watched and seen the tactics implemented against the Alliance and their kind by her own grandmother. So she sat and waited, the Republic had been watching the Empire for weeks now. ​

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Initially, Frielle didn't want to be part of it - but realized that she had to. Nothing like having a high ranking family member to bail you out, maybe, depends on how tied Fiolette was to that wife of hers. Step-Grandmother... Taeli, the woman was just a little bit older than Frielle. Ugh. "Alright no time like the present, let's get scramblin'." She sent out a comm to a group of smugglers she knew of from the Outer Rim, one of them Jerec Asyr and some of the others. The idea was to hit, steal and run - mostly hit and run for the part of the Republic.​

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If Kintan had proved anything it was that the Sith were fallible.​

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Republic Muse | @Republic/Rebels | Captain Delilah Brujav ​

 

[Quain Pluvinage]

Clients, clients everywhere! It was the dream of every businessman - perhaps Quain didn't feel the same joyous emotions as his father would because he was still doing the work. Maybe Quain too, would be happy about it if he could kick back and relax in their Headquarters back on Kuat. Leaning back comfortably in his grand armchair, the Deputy read a novel - he was already at chapter fifteen - far less exciting than the last one, but pleasing nonetheless. "Quain, can you come up here for a sec?" The pilot's voice sounded loud and clear from the intercoms of the ship, causing the target of the call to look up from his reading. With a heavy sigh, he put in his bookmark and got up, slowly making his way towards the cockpit.

The slow ship had slowed down even more - they were not at a crawl "Hey captain. They want to scan our ship" the pilot said, upbeat as always. While the deputy didn't think her enthusiasm suited the situation very well, he did appreciate it as it stood in stark contrast to many others in his staff, and especially the clients he used to work with. "They what? Why?" he asked, only to receive a shrug in response. "Well, ask them" he said, clearly not in a very compliant mood. "This is the Baleine. Uhhm, why do you wanna scan us?" she asked after establishing contact with the communications on the other side. "Because it's a cargo-ship, ma'm" The response was neutral in tone, by no means hostile or mean. It didn't help much as Quain was quite unhappy with the impeding intrusion of privacy.

It was obvious that the pilot didn't know what to answer, apparently not quite as offended by the fleet's actions. Taking matters into his own hands, Quain leaned forth towards the microphone "This is a transport, not a cargo vessel, let us pass" He said, every word bordering on sounding upset and outraged. "Maybe, sir. But it can store more than 15000 metric tonnes of stuff - it's a cargo ship" Slightly taken aback by the answer, Quain soon quipped back "No, we've built walls, ventilation, drawn water pipes all over. We're a transport!" Soon, the voice of the communications officer on the other side started to rise along with Quain's "Maybe, we'd have to scan to know that, sir" Letting out another heavy sigh, Quain threw a glance upwards, as if asking the stars for help "This is a private vessel. You can't go around stopping all transports, can you? Your head of trade keeps mentioning wealth creation, but here you are, terrorising traders and invading their privacy" he said, this time, met with silence - Either the man suffered a very sudden death, or he went to retrieve a superior officer. In any case, Quain stayed at the bridge, sharing a few moments of awkward silence with his pilot.

Captain Delilah Brujav

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Despite being in the hind end of Imperial space, Frielle Kinniak reached Jerec just fine, sans lag or static. This was largely because he was inbound and nearby. His disposable YV-666 freighter was ninety-five percent full of legitimate industrial droid components, and five percent full of undeclared disruptor rifles worth considerably more.

Who wanted the guns, and why, were questions he opted not to ask. Gun running usually had its moral obstacles to navigate, but any chaos caused on or near Bastion probably counted as one for The Good Guys, whoever they were today.

The freighter hit realspace exactly where it was supposed to and took a completely normal vector toward the planet. That vector happened to go past a ship called the Baleine, which might or might not be getting serious customs attention. A little distraction never hurt.

Jerec commed the nearest Imperial capital ship. "Acclimation, this is S.S. Portmanteau out of Muunilinst, on approach to Bastion. Standing by for customs scan, over."

Frielle Kinniak Quain Pluvinage Captain Delilah Brujav

 

[Sinestra]

Bastion Dockyards
Operation Disrupt Tyranny

Far from the good ol' home of the Outer Rim, Jude was sent to the heart of the Sith Empire to make sure the procurement of guns to a band of local troublemakers. Anything that sewed chaos in the midst of the Sith was welcome. While Jedi maintained some semblance of ethics and morale, ORION took a role unobstructed by values.

Dressed as a docks supervisor, with well forged documents in his pocket, agent Falkrowe awaited Jerec Asyr 's delivery of goods. Leaning on a cargo container, Jude smoked another nervous cigarette.

Everything, as of late, never seemed to go as planned.

Frielle Kinniak Quain Pluvinage Captain Delilah Brujav

 

[Ellie Mors]

wrong subaccount i suck

 

[B14-NC4]

FIRE DRILLS

Some people wanted to smuggle some contraband into the Sith capital, others wanted to play political martyr, and as the blue-and-magenta lights in the cockpit of the tiny stolen fighter came alive B14's internal subroutines reminded her that she wasn't here for either. The small vessel lurched forward through the void of space and cut through its frigid expanse before coming into view of the massive ship orbiting the planet named for its famed reputation as a defensive stronghold. She was here to cause some damage.

Pew Pew.

The momentum of the ship was kept at its zenith even as it approached the capital ship, its trajectory altering suddenly as it pulled up and looped backwards - and upside down, if a sense of direction made sense in space - but not before releasing two bright bolts of green from the crown of the fighter at the moment the loop began. There was no doubt to be had that the shot from the laser cannons was ineffective in the face of a capital ship's shields, but so would any kind of attempt from a single attack craft on a capital ship. But, if the calculations were accurate and the math played out right, she'd find a squadron of Sith fighters on her tail faster than she can reach the eight millionth digit of pi.

Frielle Kinniak Quain Pluvinage Captain Delilah Brujav Jerec Asyr

 

[Ay Ge]

Ay stood behind Jerec Asyr as the ship came out of hyper space, looking at the distant star destroyer. The Sith empire sure liked their triangle designs, perhaps it was related to daggers and swords, something to stab stuff with.... Sith seemed to like stabbing people a lot. "Query, captain, tell me again why we are attempting such a ludicrous task? "Statement, logically speaking our survival rating on normal missions is not the highest and at the moment it is staggering low".

Yes even if their was a slim chance of success that did facility the possibly of completing said mission, Ay would have rather stayed away from such high risk events. Alas she wasn't the captain of the freighter and was at the whim of Jerec's absurd actions, and being more or less his body guard she couldn't just let him go off on his own. "Question, shall I be ready to mount the ships defensive system in the very likely event things go wrong"?

Frielle Kinniak Quain Pluvinage Captain Delilah Brujav B14-NC4

 

[Delilah Brujav]

Just as she thought, this day was going to take a toll on her mental health. Already, she has ensigns and lieutenants bickering with their callers, trying to read them the rules of how this was to go down; was everyone in Imperial space a moron? It felt like she was on a training cruise all over again. "Captain, I have a freighter who is being uncooperative." Great. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she let out a small sigh, as she accepted the transfer that appeared over her console. The Baleine, hm? Well, this captain was about to have a rude awakening. "Captain of the Baleine, this is Captain Brujav of the Acclimation speaking. You will submit to a scan, or you will have your ship confiscated, your crew interrogated, and if we find you not to our liking, you will be imprisoned for resisting Sith law. The choice is yours." She kept the chat open, prepared to 'convince' the captain if he wished to argue back with her.

Meanwhile, several things happened in quick succession. The Portmanteau was to undergo a scan, as it seemed the crew was actually able to do their job for one. Just as the scans were being conducted, a lone fighter flew towards the star destroyer, seemingly ignoring the hails that came to it. "Captain, lone fighter is making an approach off our port side. No response from hailing it ma'am." Delilah halted the pointless conversation she was potentially having with the Baleine, as she looked to the sensor readings, and was unsure as to what this ship was thinking. It's weapons fired off towards the ship, pointlessly bouncing off the shields. What sort of farce was this? Delilah was having none of it. "Launch Tie Squadron Two, bring Squadron Three and Four into stand by. Tell Squadron One to split off and engage that target, but keep half it's reserve within patrol pattern. Send a warning to the local defense force that there has been an attack, and get a damn reading on that fighter." It was already out of tractor beam range, but the fighters could chase it down. It very well could have been some idiot local trying to just annoy them, but they were also at war; better safe than sorry. Pressing on the intercom, Delilah made an announcement. "All active crew to General Quarters. I repeat. All active crew to General Quarters. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill." She let out another small sigh, figuring that this could have very well been some suicidal rebel just trying to annoy them.

Quain Pluvinage Frielle Kinniak B14-NC4 Quain Pluvinage Jerec Asyr

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

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Frielle smirked as she watched the first squadron bite on B14-NC4's hit. "Blue Primeday is a-go, I repeat, Blue Primeday is a-go," Frielle relayed on encrypted comms to Jerec Asyr , Sinestra , and the others. "Wraith Squadron, I repeat, Wraith Squadron we're on," she repeated over another channel as twelve modified stealth X-Wing fighters seemed to shimmer out of nowhere and made a run to cover B14's tail. Frielle flipped a signal jammer, as did the other eleven pilots, sensor scramblers were engaged as well as they locked onto the TIE Fighters. "Get ready, they'll be sending out a few more squadrons. Wraith One moving to set up the first rally point."​

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The rally point would be an emergency jump point, and if the traffic jam around Bastion was bad right now? It was about to get a million times worse, "alright on my mark, shift formation Galidraan Four-Four-Nine." An old Imperial formation something she picked up from Grandma Raaf. ​

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"Yo, Wraith what happens if we get caught?"​

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"You don't get caught, you get dead - so stay frosty," Frielle told one of the smugglers who had joined the operation. "Signal out, rally point set up - broadcasting to any and all rebel cells, now's the chance."​

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Bastion would be exposed for a moment at the least, Frielle just enjoyed the moment. It wasn't often that the Sith Empire was caught with its pants down and now she could only imagine that perhaps she shared a feeling with the old Galactic Alliance pilots who fought against the First Order. She locked on to one TIE Fighter and let loose a barrage of laser fire. "Chit tickets," her own X-Wing became the target of at least two other TIE Fighters if not three, "well now they're just evening the odds, eh?"​

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"I got a scan of Sith Empire traffic points, transferring data now," Wraith-Four commented as the data was shared with the smugglers and the other pilots. Officially the X-Wings bore all the markings of a nearby rebel cell, and when the Sith Empire scanned them - that's exactly what they would say. What wasn't known was that the fighters belonged to the Republic and that the Elin Garza and a handful of other capital ships would be waiting to pick up the fighters and escort the smugglers back to the Outer Rim. ​

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The Imperial formation threw off several of the TIE Fighters, and when they began to adapt, "switch-up Dosuun One-Two-One."​

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"Copy, switching formation keep it vertical."​

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"Get ready here come their reinforcements."​

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Operation Disrupt Tyranny was probably one of the best operations that Frielle had been apart of to-date, nothing like egging the Sith capital and running out like a bunch of kids on Life Day morning. ​

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Captain Delilah Brujav | Quain Pluvinage | Ay Ge ​

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[Jerec Asyr]

Ay Ge Quain Pluvinage Captain Delilah Brujav Frielle Kinniak B14-NC4 Sinestra

"Well, Ay, it's because I've never run illegal disruptor rifles for a good cause before. We get this payday, we'll, uh..."

TIE fighters screamed past on a customs scan. Maybe their sensor packages would pick up the five percent bad cargo, lovingly wrapped in low-grade sensor diffusion mesh and stowed inside the big bins of industrial droid parts. In Jerec's experience, probably not. He'd scanned the heck out of this ship and cargo with another ship's sensors before he left, just to be sure anomalies came back well within standard random-noise tolerances.

"...have...more money."

The TIEs whipped around. He tensed but didn't touch the flight controls, not until it became clear that the anticipated crap was finally well and truly kicking off.

"No, don't get on the guns - we open fire at anyone here and we're a free target. Okay, Imperial shipping regs say what we're supposed to do is change our flight plan to get away from the violence and head for a different spaceport on Bastion." He altered course by about thirty degrees, clumsily, as if spooked by the nearby fighting. Engines went to 110%. This innocent, properly scanned, totally harmless YV-666 was running like feth for Imperial safety.

"Okay. Okay, we're not being shot at. Do me a favor: take the sensor displays and keep me posted on how the fight is going, reasonable level of detail. All I see is red dots and green dots. What ships showed up?"