Two Step

[Placeholder 04]

The fact that they had succeeded was...well, improbable. Impossible even. They should have been killed. The comm tower should have been slagged from the Star Destroyers hanging just over Balmorra. It would have been the end of their efforts, and an end to another thorn in the Sith Empire's side.

But the Imperials had listened.

The Stormtroopers let them pass without issue. The abomination ordered his soldiers to halt in their assault. The rebels' message had been heard, and it seemed that Imperials across the planet were starting to take it to heart.

The Sith had heard it too.

Cyril sat within the underground basement below Kinthar's cantina once more. He sipped a steaming cup of caf as he watched the holovision. The arrival of one [member="Darth Arcis"] and his fleet was not a surprise; eventually the Sith were bound to send someone more capable to put down the insurrection.

Still, as Cyril stared at an image of this black cloaked man flanked by soldiers of the 501st, he felt a shiver travel down his spine. They would need to be careful when dealing with this one.

He leaned back in his chair, set the caf on the table, and looked over his datapad once more for the umpteenth time. As expected, Balmorra was in an uproar. They would need to make their next move soon, keep the Sith on their toes and feed off this momentum.

He'd let the others rest a bit before calling for another planning session. He had even sent a message to [member="Cyrene Miles"] inviting her to attend, if she so desired.

[member="Charlene Adaska"], [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="Ceska Starshield"], [member="Urya Uvatera"],

 

[huggin_munnin]

Sitting in a chair with her back to the wall was Padawan Starshield. The message had been broadcast and they'd make it back unscathed. All in all, a successful outing. Ceska didn't feel particularly successful, her part being minimal. Mostly she'd just avoided being shot and had her bacon saved by Drexel.

Then there was the holo of this Darth Arcis and the 501st Legion which Cyril was look at. They had certainly gotten his attention and Ceska could feel the Master's sense of worry radiating in the Force. She also felt a certain sene of dread; if Cyril was worried, then Arcis was a real problem. She pressed her lips into a thin line and crossed her arms.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Cyrene Miles"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Thane Drexel"]
[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Charlene Adaska]

Did Charlene think this was a good cause to be fighting for? The more she thought about it, the more the answer was 'no'. Not if it displaced people. Not if it ruined lives. Not if it hurt people.
Like it had already done to her. She hadn't asked for this.

Charlene sat aboard Binkie, locked into the engine room as she usually was. This time though, she had not left. Not even to eat. She was hungry, tired, lonely, and absolutely sick to her stomach. She'd felt sick ever since they got back. Stupid. Pointless anger. The Gods would be unhappy with her. Her actions could affect Mirialan very negatively. She was a failure to her race.

Only one thing to do at a time like this, only one thing that could make her feel better.
She pulled out her tools again and went right to work. Binkie was a nice ship, but she could always do more for it.

 

[Thane Drexel]

As busy a man as he was, the Benefactor arrived to the specified location with flask in hand and a grin on his face. After the success of the mission to Balmorra, the jedi he'd met asked if he wanted more. More things to piss of the Sith, who could miss that. All decked out in his standard garb, trench coat, cargo pants and combat boots. He had his usual weapons stashed under the jacket.

Thane walked into the room where he saw the beautifully dangerous [member="Ceska Starshield"], his new Jedi friend [member="Cyril Grayson"] sat opposite as Thane took a seat.

"Greetings Master Jedi and young Jedi, how fairs the irking the Sith thing?"

 

[Cyrene Miles]

Dangerous. Everything was dangerous these days. And not in the way she'd signed up for. War, fine. Being shot at, explosives, attacks, defending. These were all part of being a soldier. These she was prepared for. Everything was simple when seen through a scope. Target, not target. Threat, not threat. Rebellion though.. sneaking around. Acting against those you'd trained with. Those you'd sworn to serve.

But here she was.

Still, for all that it was complicated it didn't necessarily feel wrong. She still thought of herself as an Imperial. A patriot. After all, patriotism was supporting your country, your people all the time, and your government only when they deserved it. The only people who tried to tell you otherwise were usually politicians. The rebellion thus-far was only against the Sith. And how could she argue that? How could she argue when a Sith had casually threatened to kill her, a then loyal servant, to get at Cyril? When he had sacrificed stormtroopers and Colicoids just to set up a trap for the Jedi? As if they were nothing? Didn't matter? No flag was large enough to cover the shame of senseless death. And how many worlds had been vongformed? Effectively destroyed?

And then of course there was Cyril. If not for him, she might have continued to serve quietly, to keep her head down until one day someone asked her to do something that she could not reconcile, and then she would refuse and likely be shot for insubordination. But he had been in the cantina, and maybe that was the way it was meant to be. Maybe people were brought together for a reason. Maybe everything happened for a reason, and maybe one of the reasons they'd been brought together was because they completed each other, filling in each others missing parts. Not just complimenting each other, but supporting, providing direction and strength. And of course tenderness, love and all that jazz, but quite often too much weight was put on lust and affection. Lust never lasted. When you had two capable people standing beside each other set on heading in the same direction though, ready to support each other if they faltered or stumbled. That was something altogether different and more powerful.

So while it was dangerous, Cyrene accepted the invitation. She was in the fairly unique position where she could. Relations between Imperials and the civilians were strained, but they hadn't degenerated yet. The Imperials knew what could happen to them if they were seen to be sympathetic to the Rebels message, and they were uncertain. Besides, some of them were bullies, did like what the Sith did. A minority, but some all the same. In short the Imperials were on edge and the civilians.. They'd known they were getting a bad deal. The message made them want to act, but the only visible representatives of the Sith were the Imperials they'd been urged not to act against. It was volatile. Any incident could incite a mob. A riot. Most Imperials stayed close to the base. Cyrene on the other hand, had spent enough time developing a friendly relationship that she could move largely unhindered on her time off.

She was careful to keep doing what she'd always done. Chat. Shoot metal parasites. Pitch in. Contribute. Which was how, in military pants, boots and tank top, rifle over her shoulder as always, she was able to enter the Cantina without drawing any more attention that a few friendly nods. After all, they were used to seeing her here.

Down to the basement. Brown eyes, took in [member="Ceska Starshield"] and [member="Thane Drexel"] first, identifying unknowns, calculating threat. Still, if [member="Cyril Grayson"] was here they were likely all right. She nodded at them.

"Howdy folks."

 

[Urya Uvatera]

That had been an interesting outing, Urya had to admit. Giant robot spiders, people shooting other people. The fact she had a gun in her mouth. She sat, contemplating the days events until Thane came in. Oh good, everyone was off the ship.. Except...

Urya hopped to her metal feet, clanking over to [member="Thane Drexel"] . She leaned close to his face, searching it quizzically. " I think your ship likes me. I may have to give him a 'let's be friends' speech. Be prepared for heartbroken, shoddy flying for a day or so." She smirked, turning on a heel and returning back to her seat.

Back on Binkie, Urya's tech voice echoed over the PA. "Charlene? Are you coming to the celebration? We have food, and possibly cake." She sounded cautious, her head making quiet little clicking noises. [member="Charlene Adaska"] 's absence had been noticed by the cyborg. Urya closed her eyes, her fluttering flock of shattered consciousness coalescing and reaching into Binkie's onboard computer. She quested through the ship's cameras, trying to catch a glimpse of their missing mechanic.

[member="Ceska Starshield"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"Just watching our new best friend on the holonet. Charming guy really." Cyril said in greeting to Thane. He took a long sip of his caf, and shook his head. He was making Ceska uneasy. Not the way the Padawan should be feeling. They'd succeeded! The revolution was beginning! Still, that sense of malice was tangible. This Arcis would be difficult.

"Don't let him worry you, Ceska. He's just another Sith." He murmured reassuringly to the student.

He pushed his lips to say more, but Cyrene had cut him off. He smiled on reflex, having grown attuned to the sound of the woman's voice . That sort of thing tended to happen when you shared a strong bond with an individual, and theirs was iron.

"Welcome to our humble abode. Cafs on the right." He waved toward the makeshift kitchen - a caf machine and a refrigerator to be specific.

"And try not to get the ship pregnant Urya. Is Charlene still on the ship?"

He lofted a brow, and tapped his finger on the table. The holotranciever clicked as it came to life. It was time to plot, one way or the other.

[member="Cyrene Miles"], [member="Charlene Adaska"],


[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Ceska Starshield"], [member="Dish"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

"We have their attention," said Ceska in reply to the Zabrak pilot, gesturing to the image of the Sith. Cyril attempted to put her at ease and she nodded dubiously. Just another Sith, was he; she'd see about that. The Force gave her an especially sinister feeling about this one.

Her eyes went up to see the sniper from the other night. Her soldier's eyes appraised what danger Ceska might hold and decided that she was probably okay, sitting not far from the familiar Cyril. It was just as well, the Padawan could have been out of the chair and had her lightsaber a centimeter away from her neck faster than she would believe. She wouldn't even have a chance to level the long rifle she had on her shoulder strap. Starshield nodded politely in greeting.

[member="Dish"]
[member="Thane Drexel"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Urya Uvatera"]
[member="Cyrene Miles"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]

 

[Charlene Adaska]

The voice over the intercom made the mechanic jump and almost crack her head on the pipe she was working on.
"Urya?" She looked around, confused. She hadn't heard anyone get back on the ship. Oh. She was probably still at the party. The party she was absolutely not going to under any circumstances.

"Is she there?" she asked, venom lacing every sylluble, "If so, then forget it. I can't."

She wiped her oil covered hands on her trousers and put her wrench away. She knew better than to invite trouble.

Certainly seems to find me anyway...

She turned her back on the door, kneeling in front of her makeshift alter to the Gods. No. She didn't need cake. She needed to pray. Hard. Maybe the Gods would finally forgive her for whatever transgression led her to Cyril.


[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

Urya's face fell, but she transmitted once more into Binkie. " .. I.. okay. Yes, she is here. I'm sorry you can't. We will bring back food, I assume."

Once she'd disconnected, she sat up in the chair with a glum expression. " ... Yes, Charlene is on the ship. She refuses to emerge while the snogging woman is here." She pointed a flesh finger at [member="Cyrene Miles"] , resting her chin in her metal one. Despite their victory, the Cyborg was somewhat depressed that the woman she (mistakenly) identified as her best friend was not there. "It makes me sad. Charlene did not want to shoot me when we first met. Everyone else has. I wish she would attend."

 

[Cyrene Miles]

"Snoggin' woman? Been called alota things.. That's a first."

Cyrene would have been amused if she wasn't disappointed in this woman she didn't know. They were trying to save lives, to change the Galaxy for the better, and she was going to sit in a ship and sulk because.. what? She'd seen Cyril kiss her? It wasn't as if Cyril was the type to lead someone on either, which meant this was some ridiculous infatuation, a daydream that had just been popped. And over that, over a fantasy, a childish tantrum was being thrown that could cost lives.

The Sniper was half tempted to go find this ship and drag her out by her ear and give her a proper tongue-lashing like the child she was being, but if Cyril had called her here than there was a reason, business to attend. It was too risky her being in the same place as his rebels otherwise.

"Reckon she gotta figure out where her priorities are and why she's doin' what she's doin'."

Was the only response she gave the.. cyborg? HRD? Whatever it was, with a shrug as she seated herself and turned her attention to Cyril.

"What's next?"

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Cyril Grayson"] [member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Darth Arcis]

The entire fleet materialized into existence above Balmorra. The black, sleekly designed Chimaera sat at the center of the wolfpack with its menacing gaze upon the industrial world. It was key to the Empire's prosperity, key to his own success, but only one of the keys that would open up a single lock at the door of the Empire itself. Even more important than that: Dranok had been bred and raised on this planet. While he indeed was Corellian-born, he had spent the latter part of his twenties and the pair of successor decades on this world.

It was his and his alone. No harm should have befallen its people, unless they were deserving of it, and his troops garrisoned here were supposedly some of the best. Apparently not.

"Commander Aric," his dark, raspy voice called out. "Ready my shuttle immediately. I want the entire legion on the ground in less than an hour and any delays are unacceptable. Am I understood, Commander?"

The middle-aged man meekly nodded. "Understood, my Lord."

Aric was a good man, Dranok thought. Ever since he had been in command of the empire had this modest, humble, and extremely capable officer sat at his right hand. No backtalk, no dramatic in battle, and more victories and successes than a military commander could ever dream of. The man didn't talk much and the personality within his soul seemed spent - but he was a tool of the Empire, just another cog in this machine that kept the galaxy alive.

At the Sith Lord's command, the entire fleet began mobilizing their own Stormtrooper legions. The 501st were exclusively stationed aboard Dranok's flagship but each orbiting star destroyer began to spew out dropship after dropship. Intelligence personnel were dispatched to crack down on insurrectionists within the cities, patrols would be deployed to outlying lands and nations, and the elite 501st and their supreme commander would answer this rebel's call directly were it came from.

Face-to-face, nothing less. This Cyril man had guts and Dranok was just in the mood to see what they looked like. Sweet, decadent entrails to be hung around his crimson-slicked blade. It would be a shame to waste an opportunity, an example, such as this. To hang this poor Jedi boy by his own intestines in front of the masses of innocent people would be the perfect example to set.

To rebel was to despise order.

To rebel was to hate your neighbor and your leader.

To rebel was to die.

Darth Arcis was happy to oblige.

[member="Cyrene Miles"], [member="Urya Uvatera"], [member="Charlene Adaska"], [member="Ceska Starshield"], [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Arcis might have made his descent, but Cyril was entirely unaware of the approaching threat. It was highly unlikely the Sith Lord would find him on this day - they were too well hidden, and Cyril took cautions to hide his presence within the force. Ceska was an outlier much like himself, but she was not so connected to the living force as to serve as a beacon. Not yet.

"There is a factory not far from here. It's the Sith's main production facility on the planet. We're going to cripple it." He explained, pulling up a holochart on the table. A mess of blueprints coalesced into a 3-D image, showing offices, construction facilities, a motorpool, restrooms, the works. Cyril pushed up out of his chair, and pointed at the largest assembly line.

"Thane, you'll drop us off near the emergency entrance. Cyrene, we'll need you to walk in claiming an emergency inspection, and open that entrance. Ceska, Urya, and I will make our way to the main cooling vat. We'll set it to blow with detonite tape - it'll set the facility back a few months in production. More than enough to prove devastating to the Sith war effort. We do this around twelve-hundred when the civilians will be off to lunch. Zero casualties."

He cast a short look around. Urya was still upset. The errant Jedi Master reached over and set a firm hand on her shoulder. "Don't let her get you down. You've done a lot of great things in the time I've known you - let's do more."

[member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

Urya grinned, reassured by [member="Cyril Grayson"] 's grip on her shoulder. She was about to comment again, but stopped. Her flocking psyche was wheeling about, like a terrified explosion of birds. The air felt thicker to her, like ozone just before a thunderstorm. Or mist. There was an oppressive amount of electrons flying through the air from the battle fleet as they sent their messages about; electronic signatures, orders over the radio and the like. Urya was too far away to catch any of them, but it was as if she felt the air grow more humid, the barometric pressure had dropped.

A storm was coming. Rain? Must be rain. Regular people could feel the rain when it was coming, right? She wanted to extend her mind out to their wayward mechanic once more, but she didn't want to further aggravate Charlene..

"The air feels heavy," She commented. " I think it will rain."

[member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Charlene Adaska]

Binkie was talking again. Local chatter all over the air waves. Charlene had taken time to set Binkie up to filter it automatically. For a bunch of rebels, one never knew when local news could be useful. Something about dark storm clouds.
Charlene knew her trade, that was for damn sure. So, when Binkie found something interesting, Charlene was told about it.
She looked up from where she was praying, listening closely to the chatter Binkie was playing over head. Heavy rain. Oncoming storm. Dark, angry clouds. She had no idea if it was a literal storm, or something she could not place.

While the Woman was once more proving that she lacked any skill for showing empathy in any form, (and therefor proving that she was absolutely prefect for Greyson after all) Charlene was on her way to the cockpit. To do her job. The only job she had any real skill in. The job she was there to do.

"Urya, can you hear me?" She hoped the connection was stable. She'd never tested this. She knew Urya could interface with the ship, but who knew if she could communicate back if Urya wasn't currently connected. She sincerely hoped she did not have to actually go there physically and give them the update. What a chore. Especially when she only liked, like, one person (err.... cyborg?) there.


[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Ceska listened to Grayson's plans for the production facility in silence.

"Alright, this should hit them hard," she said "But...I'm pretty sure the Sith Lord will show up...and his minions."

She looked over at Urya and simply listened. She was getting used to the idiosyncrasies of the strange cyborg woman, after a fashion. Apparently she could predict the weather. Ceska frowned; according to the HoloNews, Balmorra wasn't in for any rain for at least four or five standard days.

"Are you sure, Urya?'" Ceska asked "It's been clear for days and its supposed to stay that way for a while."

[member="Urya Uvatera"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Darth Arcis"]
[member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

Jaw tightened as [member="Cyril Greyson"] went over his next plan. Opening more doors. She wasn't entirely certain that he understood that just because she wore stormtrooper armour sometimes didn't mean she was anonymous. There were trackers in it. It was half the reason she wasn't armoured now. Not that they were constantly monitored, that was too many people to track, but when someone started to wonder why the factory had opened their doors? Besides which, she didn't have the clearance to declare an emergency inspection. Zero casualties seemed pretty hopeful as well. In her experience just because no one was meant to be there didn't mean no one was.

Still, he'd given her a mission she'd not liked before and she'd made it work. She could figure something out, she-

Thoughts and plans were cut off as the comm unit on her wrist pinged. Unlike her armour, it was nigh on untrackable. It was after all understood that as a Sniper she might wind up on her own and behind enemy lines, and that being the case she needed to be able to receive orders and report without alerting every channel sniffer in the area.

The message was simple.

Stand down, the fleet in the sky and the troops being dropped were friendly and from a higher ranking Sith who was now in charge of the planet and situation. Follow any orders received from him and his commanders.

After all, you don't drop a fleet and troops onto a garrison that's been dealing with vicious colicoid attacks, rebellions and tension with the local populace without a little warning, at least as it was happening to make sure there were no misunderstanding. Particularly of the kind that involved blasters.

"Well it sure looks like it's gonna be rainin' on our parade."

She commented grimly.

"Y'got heat. Lot's of it from th'sound. Sith and a fleet. Y'dealin' with this or tryna go ahead with th'factory? I can't stay here much longer. Message like this they'll be expectin' us back on base. I c'n find a way out if y'need me t'act, but this kinda heat hits, they expect us lined up and lookin' keen for th'new boss."

Some people got to sit nice and safe on ships, crying about how their lives were ruined when in fact they were so unimportant it was unlikely anyone would ever care to come after them unless they insisted on running about talking all the time, others had to risk their lives with very little chance of reward or thanks because it was the right thing to do. Such was the life.

[member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Thane Drexel]

Thane nodded alon as and were laid out. Fly them in seemed easy enough. But this time, he would need to be more vigilant on keeping ees on the sky, because as soon as any alarm was triggered, the fleet above would know they were there. The trick then would be avoiding a garrison and escaping the fleet.

"Alright, I suggest finding a way to obtain signal jammers and hacking materials. If you are gonna want to avoid tipping off the large fleet above us that is. I have a feeling that we will need to be more cautious than our last adventure."


[member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Darth Arcis]

Hundreds of Sentinel-class dropships began spewing from the fleet of Star Destroyers hanging in orbit. Stormtroopers were locked and loaded, with thermal detonators hanging off of their utility belts and heavy assault weaponry in their hands. Behind the first waves of reinforcements that would garrison this world came a single white dove - a Lambda-class shuttle filled to the brim with 501st Stormtroopers and their Imperial Commando counterparts.

"You," A single grey, pale digit jabbed at a Commando. "Tell me your name."

The trooper didn't even hesitate. "IC-4573, my lord." The commando gave whatever salute he could muster while sitting down, but it still looked professional though he was seated. Their loyalty was unquestionable.

"No, your real name. I know you Commando boys come up with names for each other. Don't lie to me."

This time he did hesitate. "Roach, sir. My squadmates call me Roach."

Wickedly sharp yellow teeth curled into a smile. Set beneath sun-hued eyes, he withdrew his pale hand from view and hid it beneath his cloak. After a moment of silence, the Sith Lord heaved a wretched cough, angling the spew of saliva and phlegm into the crook of his elbow. Dranok cleared his throat loudly and crudely, sounding more like an animal than man.

"My lord, we'll be landing near where the insurrectionists sent out their message. We'll land further away, no clue on whether they have anti-air assets or not." Roach's T-visor made him appear emotionless in his conversation with a Lord of the Sith. "If that is acceptable, sir, then we shall continue."

Darth Arcis nodded, "That is acceptable, Roach. You may carry on."

"Yes, my Lord."

[member="Cyril Grayson"], [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="Cyrene Miles"], [member="Charlene Adaska"], [member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"We'll manage. We have what materials we might need. We just need to be careful with how we go about this." He assured, glancing around the room. It was a small team, but it was reliable. He could trust everyone here to do their duties to the bitter end. A small smile found its way onto his face as he pushed up to his feet, pulling his cloak over his shoulders.

Then he felt it. That cold malevolence just on the edge of his very existence. The distant chill that seemed to pervade from the very core of Balmorra. It was the electricity one felt in the air just before a violent storm. The feeling of unease most sentient were taken by when alone in the dark.

The Sith was planetside.

Cyrene's words only confirmed his theory. A heavy sigh escaped him at the grim realization - things were going to get messy from here on out.

"Relax for the evening. We'll need to move as soon as possible before we're found." He instructed, strolling over to Cyrene's side to peck her on the cheek. "And you get going. We don't want the Imps getting suspicious. Try not to get shot until we start the operation, alright?"

[member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Ceska Starshield"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Dish"]