Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Wanna buy some deathsticks? (Diarcy, Munnilist , SDAT-HRT1-5 Intro Thread)

The surface of the global cityscape glinted in the light of Munnilist's star, casting brilliant beams thru the transport ship's viewports as the vessel sailed downward towards the glittering, ancient jewel of this sector. Inside the mid sized starship a collection of Silentarri agents had eaten, slept, and otherwise killed time the past few days as they had traveled across the void. The trip had been mostly quiet. His team SDAT-HRT1, along with the rest of alpha platoon, had been pulled from anti slaver operations along the edges of HR space to deal with the current situation, and those operations tended to bring a quietness to all who witnessed it. Dan sniffed and rolled his head as he looked outward, the overwhelming light a stark contrast to the images his team had been cursed with in recent days and his team's dark uniforms. The squad leader let his gaze linger over the horizon where Munnilist's curvature met the blinding light until his eyes hurt and his vision began to spot. He turned before too long, sparing himself any real damage to his organic eye. He mentally collected himself. He was responsible for twelve other agents, and they'd earned his focus. The pilot hit the loudspeaker, announcing their imminent landing and the team silently packed, preparing to disembark. They moved quickly and gathered themselves in an empty place near the ship's large, still closed ramp. The other squads that comprised the rest of Alpha did the same, 1-5. They all nodded and chatted among their fellows as they gathered, each team assigned different objectives to serve the same overall mission. Unless another squad needed support.

"Equipment check." Daniel said as he entered with his own bag and began to sift through it, running through a checklist of his own before checking his team's equipment. The checks were redundant. They were all highly proficient, competent agents, most of them with plenty of experience before they even made it on the team. The checks were necessary though. Trust but verify. Always verify. If you didn't, then it was on you if someone died when a piece of gear could've prevented it. Dan smiled as they landed and rolled off the ramp towards the planet's main Network building, the imposing monolithic duracrete building was to be their base of operations for the foreseeable future. "Get a bunk and get settled. Meet me at 2200 out front. Stretch your legs, don't shoot anybody." 1-5 dispersed as their squad leaders filled into an elevator to take them to the Director's Office, the pristine orderliness of the DS offices a stark contrast to the levels down below. The five men didn't talk as they ascended, not out of animosity. They'd each just played therapist to one another on the way there, unable to express such emotions to the rest of their squadmates. The silence allowed them to focus up. A gust of cold air filled the elevator's interior as the doors slid apart, revealing an unassuming chair and desk set against the backdrop of the cityscape. At the desk sat a thin elderly gentlemen, who eyed them in an approving but calculated manner. He'd been impressed with alpha's performance in the Rim. They'd executed a series of operations in quick succession against very horrible people, maintaining their composure at each stage regardless of what they were presented with. Then, to come straight from that to this, without a whisper of complaint or a sign of deficiency, showed the level of professionalism he expected from his agents. He placed five files in front of him with five different assignments and bid the squad leads to take the ones with their names. They did and turned to leave. "Good job. Do it again here." The director said as they stepped into the elevator. An incredibly rare moment of praise from a normally silent bothan. The group beamed as the elevator went back down.


----------------------
Munnilist, Mid level, 2359

Miles of electric lights buzzed across the planet's surface with relentless consistency, casting shadows across the durasteel and trillions of beings that went to and fro endlessly. In the middle of all that noise, it was easy for an outsider to miss the cracks in the walls. Homeless, wild eyed citizens and the encroachment of various criminals. The very air in some areas had gone hazy, iron like metallic smells overwhelming it. Such problems were common on many worlds. Few took notice in any real capacity besides those that participated with, were hurt by, or fought against such folks. That had been the way on the world for sometime, and no one did care, until a nobleman's daughter had been poisoned by the venom that was so common on the levels beneath them. Action had been demanded and would almost certainly be delivered, one way or another, and the city's seedier elements knew this and had been reacting accordingly. The underbelly associated with spice, particularly deathsticks, was alert, tense. Immediately following the incident, the planetary defense forces had taken down several clubs, cook sites, and businesses operated by the gang responsible, an opening salvo in a much larger operation. Evidently the noble had yelled loudly enough that the HR deemed it necessary to send in SDAT assets. Who were currently in route to an apartment bloc along a mostly quiet section of the mid level. It was quiet because the Deathrunners, a subsec of the larger criminal cartel that was the HRT teams were working to bring down, ran the neighborhood. Six of HRT1's twelve members moved along the low shadows of a wall as they entered thru a side entrance by the alley behind the building past piles of uncollected trash. The other six maintained security. The doors slid open, left unlocked by the lookout local pd had made contact with and turned informant before the team had arrived. They moved quickly, methodically clearing the first room on their immediate left in a dimly lit hallway. Besides a sleeping man it was empty, save for a couple cots and the multicolored array of deathsticks strown about the tiny room. Dan nodded at the sleeping man and his team immediately cuffed and gagged him, before leaving him where he was. Muffled curses and threats were all the deathrunner could manage as the team filed back out into the hallway. At the end of the hallway another rounded the corner, another skinny human, and Dan immediately put a bolt from his blaster carbine between their eyes as the tried to bring up a large blaster pistol. Metal clanked on metal as the form crumpled to the floor.

HRT1 advanced, continuing their methodical pace as they rounded the corner, revealing a stairwell and two more deathrunners, they fell in streams of light as colorful as their deathsticks.
"Three down, one cuffed." Dan keyed to the tactical coordination unit and the six of his guys pulling security, Lucky for the group moving up the stairwell the intel had been correct and before them sat a large, locked durasteel door. Behind it lay HRT1's objective, the local leader for the deathrunners, an angry scarred rodian by the name of Vesh. From what they'd heard, he could lead them to the manufacturing hub that had produced the poison that was destroying the soul of the locals. Dan looked the door up and down before motioning for his team to blow it open and throw stun grenades in before moving in after the charge detonated. There was a hundred percent chance that there were at least a few angry, doped up gang members leveling blasters at the door. The team moved in a practiced manner, one applying the charge while another two prepped grenades and the last preparing to enter as Dan was, weapon raised. Time seemed to slow as the charge blew the door inward and off it's hinges, flinging it across a large office room, the stun grenades were tossed and exploded, having the desired effect. Vesh dropped his weapon from his place behind his ornate desk, clutching his ears with a stunned look, his bodyguards reacting similarly as the team violently took control of the room. Shortly, they were cuffed and prepped for transport for interrogation back at Network HQ. "Three down, four cuffed." Dan keyed. HRT-1 was all smiles as they piled into a separate LE transport speeder back to base. First step had went easy enough, Dan doubted the rest of the operation would go so smoothly.
 
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When Jairdain opened her eyes, she never expected to see anything. That was the case this morning, but in addition to being blind, she was also cut off from the Force. Rolling over or trying to, she found her arms and feet were bound. She could move, but going anywhere was not an option. Letting out a sigh, she wondered what had happened, who had captured him, and why. Maybe it would become clear, but for the moment, the important thing is to assess her surroundings.

The last thing she remembered was leaving a bank on Myggeto after completing business there. She had returned to her accommodation and woke up in this situation. It wasn't the first time this had happened, so she didn't panic. Without the Force, she was a simple, blind person with heightened senses.

In the room with her was another piece of furniture, but no one was present. She could tell where the door was, and there were no windows. Perhaps she was in an office? Since she was unable to get up and explore, she could only guess. Outside the room, there were people. None of them were close enough for her count, but there were more than two. Trying to hear what was being said, they did not talk loudly enough for her to know what was going on.

There were times in her life when she would wander alone for extended periods. It might take a while for her family to notice she was missing unless a ransom was sent out for her. She had no way of letting anybody know or alerting them through the Force. Now, it would have been beneficial for those old Sith Lords who had kidnapped her many years ago to still be alive. Their connections hadn't gone through the Force but through their souls. She could have reached them easily. Not one to bemoan what could have been, she instead tried to focus on what will be. She would be freed, but it would take time.

Trent Trent
 
Tarn stood over the slumped figure of a cuffed Rodian, his armored silhouette blocking the harsh ceiling light as he studied the man’s face for any sign of lingering defiance. There was none, just ringing ears, darting eyes, and a jaw that clicked erratically as the last of the stun grenade’s and drugs wore off.

“That's Vesh,” one of the Network officers said beside him. “ID came through clean. Washburne’s team pulled him out of his hole maybe thirty minutes ago.”

Tarn nodded once, knowing Washbourne was likely in his own debriefing with the network and leaving the interrogations to local authority's.

Crouched beside the suspect, resting one armored hand on his leg to stop the tapping. The Myrmidon-issue armor was in stark contrast to the criminals garb.

“Tell me where the synth lab is, Vesh, this is not the alliance. I'll pull the answers out of your teeth." he said plainly, voice filtered through the modulation grill of his helmet. “Do it now, and maybe you get to breathe fresh air again.”

The Rodian groaned something incoherent.

Tarn stood again. “Still disoriented. Get him to Isolation Two. Secure him, get medical staff to detox him, keep him alive. Than we will continue."

With a gesture, the officers dragged the gang leader away. Tarn tapped twice on his vambrace and brought up the active tac-net feed highlighting the HRT-1 team’s successful breach and capture logs. Efficient. Swift. No public engagement. He’d expected nothing less.

A ping lit up the corner of his HUD: Agent Washburne In Transit, ETA: 5 min.

Good. It was time they finally met.

‐------------------------------------

Tarn was already waiting by the reinforced observation window, arms folded behind his back. A few officers gave him a wide berth, used to the grim aura that seemed to follow Myrmidon veterans. His face was sharp, and his gaze stayed fixed on the monitor tracking holding cell vitals.

When Washburne stepped off the lift, Tarn gave a nod.

"You made a clean entry," Tarn said. "No sirens. No civilian chatter on the net. I appreciate that."

His tone was low, measured. Unreadable.

"I've got eight mid-level precincts stretched thin because these muuns do everything they can from allowing us to enforce the law. It is our duty to counterbalance their greedy practices. If there is anything I can do for your efforts, either myself directly or with planetary law, just let me know. You have not only the network, but the Diarchy at your disposal."
Trent Trent Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jairdain Ismet-Thio
 
Dan had reported back to the silent, thin superior and had recounted the events before receiving the go ahead to act on the intel they retrieved from the rodian. The sl had given a yes sir and turned about, returning to the elevator. He was glad that things were running smoothly thus far, no injuries or anything, succesful snatching of target. A good start to the evening. The biggest difference between standard planetary defense units and those of the network was the frequency and intensity of the raids, they would likely be continuing for at least the next twenty four hours. Then they might get a few hours of sleep, continue on. If they got tired, they would take some of their issued stimulants. As the elevator silently took him back to a lower level. From there, he made his way to Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard , the man who'd been charged with interrogating Vesh that night.

The hubub of activity and light in headquarter stood as an island in the darkened upper levels. Many of those that occupied these levels were aristocrats and kept halfway normal hours. Besides their hedonistic displays. 0200. Still early. Rain began to pelt the viewports as he strolled past, thunder rumbling from an incoming weather system, casting a dark gloom over the already dim light of the upper levels. He passed technicians, analysts, members of the science team, custodians, and even others like himself as he passed through. An incredibly occupied building for 0200, even by Muuny standards.

"Thank you sir" the Silentarri Junior Officer replied. He appreciated that his competency was noted.

"We're gonna make that stop." Dan said as the armored officer finished laying out the dire situation that planetary law enforcement was facing with the expansion of groups like the Dragonrunners underneath a new, Muun run cartel. The roots of which were expected to run deep into the upper levels of society and seemed to avoid exposing themselves unnecessarily, using proxies to do the bulk of the dirty work. "Teams 2-5 are also running their own operations, the Diarchy has demanded blood, these criminals won't last out the week." He felt a swell of pride, despite the grimness of their work, it was worthwhile. These beings running the spice spent lifetimes poisoning entire worlds. To stop them was barely work, more a labor of love to a family man like Dan.
 
The low hum of the observation station dulled beneath the steady, growing rhythm of rain hammering the viewport above them. What began as a drizzle had broken into sheets of cold rain, each clap of thunder shaking the frame of the upper levels. Tarn stood beside the holo-table, arms behind his back. His gaze fixed on the new priority sector glowing in violent crimson. A once-abandoned Muun finance spire. Now confirmed to house the next layer of the rot.

Although he recognized the man in his duty and position In response to Washburnes words Tarn simply replied - "Words in, Vesh broke, word just came over my personal communicator. Synth lab. Mid-spire vault suites. The one they called Edo Narch runs it... a Muun. Well-insulated, tied to property. Vesh claims he's the one who brings in the goods, getting them past customs. Heard they like to capture force users as well and sell them on the slave market for a profit."

Tarn's voice stayed calm. The Silentarri were the ones who unmade empires from the inside out. He had no doubt this one would be the same.

"You have authority as an asset of the network to be judge, jury, and executioner of Edo at your discretion. But for my sake try to bring him in alive if possible. If its not viable, terminate him and I will file the paperwork."

There was no visible sign of change in Tarns spirit as he spoke. The man was hardened and a veteran of many of the Diarchy's campaigns since the Myrmidons were created after the joust charge on Muunilist with Diarch Reign.

Outside, the storm thundered again, rolling across the city like the growl of a beast.

Tarn tapped his vambrace and a holo projection of the area popped into view.

"I'm deploying a full encirclement. Squads from Precincts Two and Four. Perimeter lockdown within six blocks. Civilian routes diverted, airspace locked. No alarms, no chatter. Any civilian tries to force their way in or out will be met with the law. In air or on the ground."

"You breach,"
he added while turning around to ready the security forces. "and I'll be waiting in the street to catch anything that tries to crawl out. WIth this being a Muun operated building, be ready for trap doors, secret hallways, and other slimy way this grease ball can think of to hinder law and escape."

Then, with one final glance toward Daniel, Tarn walked to the turbolift. "Let's shut em down."

Trent Trent
 
Daniel keyed his team as Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard laid out the ROE and where they needed to hit next as Vesh cried out in pain levels below. "We got a muun to catch boys. John, get a few extra det charges from the armory, lot of these guys have heavy doors. Everyone check your night vision. We will be cutting the power."

Dead or alive on ROEs made his job easier, though he was selective about following those to begin with. Careful phrasing could do wonders when confronted with ignoring them after the fact. No civilians and locked airspace made it even easier.

The turbo lift zoomed towards the lobby and within a few moments the squad assembled and group boarded a waiting transport. Zooming across the windswept, rain soaked cityscape. Working during a storm was always nice. Good cover for noise, distracting to the enemy on occasion, particularly when they were of the spice using variety. Neon flashed by as the trip was made. A joke here and there but otherwise silent as the team looked over the map of the vault spires and their mark. They would hit the electrical room first, blowing a hole thru the wall from street level, then push thru the opulent dwelling. The transport gave an almost sleepy atmosphere as they flew, bumping gently as the atmosphere around the ship burned with electricity.

When they arrived the ramp slammed down and the team aggressively exited the ramp, taking stock of the empty walkway. PD had done it's job. The twelve moved quickly and quietly as they placed det charges on the slick durasteel under the pelting rain. They moved an appropriate distance back and hit the charges before lobbing in stun grenades and rushing into the breach, the dursteel had peeled inwards, killing a guard instantly, before the second had been knocked unconcious by the force of the blast, a bit of blood trickled from their nose as they were cuffed. "NODs." Dan keyed as he approached the electrical panel and opened it, swiftly hitting every breaker into the off position before kicking the larger main disconnect in the panel next to in. The lights immediately flipped off and Dan smiled in the darkness. The entire set of suites would be enveloped in it. Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jairdain Ismet-Thio
 
She might be nothing more than a blind person right now, but Jairdain had extraordinary senses except for her sight. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she heard the explosions and got up off the chair she had been sitting on. In her captivity, she had discovered she was in an office. Probably not far from the bank she had been taken from. Nobody had come to speak to her, so she was still just as lost on a motive as she was before.

However, she was going to get out of this predicament. While the people had been speaking earlier, she had found a broom in the closet of this office. Taking the head off, she could use the stick to help navigate until she got the Force back. Using her elbow, she broke the window of the office that looked out in the direction of the commotion.

With most of the racket in another part of the floor, she hoped the shattering noise she made went unnoticed. Stopping before stepping out of the room, she waited to hear if anybody might be coming her way. There didn't seem to be a problem, so she stepped out and started using the stick to help her maneuver through the floor.

Trent Trent Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard
 
The first M.I.S.S.M.E. transport touched down, its mag-thrusters hissing steam into the rain-drenched avenue. Security forces spilled out of it. Most of them pulling security while a small branch of engineers began putting up temp walls, spike-strips, mobile barricade pylons and electric fencing. Ensuring the wall of DISF personnel would not get ran over by some form of speeder. Amidst it all Tarn moved coordinating it all. His boots splashing in the inch-deep runoff already carving trenches along the duracrete. The rain was a solid sheet now, driven nearly sideways by the wind. It beat against his Myrmidon armor. The red beam of his helmet an image of justice in the dark night.

"Seal it tight." As they circled the entire financial sector street block by block. Civilian vehicle traffic was halted within moments. Foot traffic diverted by automated barricades, signs blinking DISF OPERATIONAL LOCKDOWN. DO NOT ENTER. On the rooftops of surrounding buildings, LAET/I gunships touched down. Any high level Exec who dared to come out and complain about their buildings being used for official Diarchy operations would be in breach of Diarchy law and subject to arrest and holding. There were no complaints tonight.

The officers with him soaked to the bone and silent behind their visors, spread out into squads. Tarn walked the centerline of the boulevard, flanked by two fireteams carrying deployable Lilaste order shields, guns and suppression gear. At the midpoint, he halted. A DISF riot line formed alongside him.

From the darkness, a young civilian darted out of a side alley soaked in what looked like office clothes, babbling about an appointment, about civil rights, about "not being involved but needing to get inside the secured area."

Tarn said nothing. He stepped forward and leveled the man with a precise palm strike to the chest. He hit the ground hard, skidding half a meter on the slick stone. Without hesitation, Tarn walked over, knelt, and cuffed the man behind the back, and pulled him to his feet. He thrashed once, then froze as the cold edge of Tarn's helmeted gaze met his eyes.

"You have attempted to breach a DISF secure site. You are under arrest. You will be held until proof of your '/"Non Involvement'/" can be proven."

And without a word more, he turned and marched the man into the dark, rain-slick alleyway behind the shield wall. When Tarn returned alone, he moved into place at the center of the DISF line.

Trent Trent Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jairdain Ismet-Thio
 
The team moved through the darkened spaces of the suites with practiced, methodical eyes. From behind the hum of artificial light they viewed the world in a green haze, the criminals were woefully unprepared for the assault. The rapid response of the intel agencies had been unexpected, especially when the same teams that were used in Hostage Rescue were the same teams that carried out high profile assasinations and direct action during wartime. Their designation was more obfiscation than anything else.

Little flashes came out the ends of their rifles as they moved, blinded thugs dropping as various colors of blood decorated the stairs and walls around them. They pushed up and through the stairwell outside the eletrical room and into a residential hallway. A Trandoshan with a heavy repeater popped around a doorway, sending red bolts streaking into the darkness towards them, on his head sat a nightvision rig. He hissed as he fired. Dan hugged the leftmost wall as a bolt tore thru the top layer of his right shoulder, winging him and flying past into a vase, causing it to explode into a thousand porcelain pieces. As he moved he and his team fired, slugs sent the alien tumbling backward into the doorframe as his repeater fired into the sky, his clawed finger clutching the trigger as the nerves tensed. The team quickly cleared the storage room behind the frame and set off back down the hallway, their sights coming across Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jairdain Ismet-Thio . They held their fire but kept their rifles raised as they approached, two of them keeping them on her as the others fanned out into the officer behind her and the hallway beyond her. "Hands" Dan commanded as he approached the stranger. A quick glance of her clothing and face showed that of a probable civilian, he keyed Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard "Toc, entry made, one civilian found alive, seven e-kia."
 
Her natural Zorren senses helped her navigate the floor, and she headed in the direction of the clattering. She had just hoped whoever was attacking was allies and not enemies of whoever captured her. The way she heard them moving, though, gave her hope they were going to help.

In front of her, the room was quickly emptied, and she was noticed. Not that she was trying to hide by any means. She was still without the Force and wondered how long that would be an issue. At the command to show her hands, she let go of the broomstick and did exactly what the man said.

Her eyes glowed a pale yellow, and they were unfocused. While her clothes were of very good quality, they were starting to get rumpled from her adventure today. Even if she couldn't use it well, there was a lightsaber clipped to her hip, and she wore soft brown shoes. She was dressed more for teaching than using the Force.

He hadn't asked anything from her, so she kept silent.

Trent Trent Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard
 
The stink of blood and death met Tarn the moment he crossed into the threshold of the building. He paused behind a fractured durasteel bulkhead, gaze narrowing on the aftermath of a breach. Tactical teams had already cleared the floor. Spice runners sprawled across the floor Blood on tile. Broken gear. He was now inside to retrieve any left alive, including the civilian. He stepped past the mess with the non-disturbed nature of a person who has seen gruesome war.

The halls were quiet now. Smoke clung to the corners, broken glass underfoot. He kept his eyes forward. Second floor. Far end. Office door. He approached without slowing. No weapon raised and stepped inside.

His visor tracked the woman near the far wall. Hands raised. Lightsaber visible. Not an immediate threat. Not forgotten either. With his Phrik Myrmidon armor he was not to concerned but it was noted. Was she allowed in Diarchy space. What was her affiliation. He paused a full pace away from her, scanning her posture, the tilt of her head, the tension in her arms.

He tapped his comm.

"Ekkard to DISF Command. Prep for transfer."

There was never a break in his gaze to this "civilian". He reached out a hand for her to shake. A test. "Tarn Ekkard. Head of internal security. I am going to need you to come with me Ma'am. Just some routine questioning. We will provide warm food, beverages and shelter." He did not wait for her to respond. If she chose to fight or deny questioning, that was fine as well...

Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jairdain Ismet-Thio Trent Trent
 
Noting the name silently, Jairdain waited for the conversation to be directed at her. When it was, she slowly lowered her arms, as she didn't feel she was going to get shot for doing it. Her posture was still tense, and her demeanor was calm. It might be clear that this wasn't the first time she had been in a situation like this. Blind and without the Force.

"You'll have to guide me out or allow me to use the broomstick to get around. I'm blind."

She had heard him move slightly, but she didn't want to assume he was offering his hand to shake. Probably safer that way, and being open from the start would hopefully make this experience smoother.

"I'm Jairdain Ismet. Ask me whatever you need."

The name might be new to this man, but if he ran her records, he would find she checked out and lived on Bastion.

Tarn Ekkard Tarn Ekkard Trent Trent
 

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