Karvis
The Rebel Alliance => Alliance Intelligence => Topic started by: GM Craig on October 12, 2016, 02:17:55 PM
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Once her housekeeping and personal stuff is sorted out, and Nim indicates her readiness to enter active duty, she quickly receives a message from General Vernan asking her to come alone. You catch a shuttle to an orbiting Corellian Corvette, and are brought into the command centre deep in the middle of the ship.
He looks up as the doors open. "Ah, Agent Naga. Come in. I'm pleased you're ready for duty. We have a lot on our plate, so let's get started."
Since he is obviously not one for formalities or social graces, you take a place at the circular console. You note several others come to the console as well.
A section of the Galatic Map comes up - your implant immediately identifies the Atrivis Sector.
"The declaration of Rebellion has been broadcast all over the galaxy, and several worlds are now in open rebellion - far more than we thought. Our resources are suddenly spread very thing, and we still do not have 'boots on the ground' types to back up the planetary revoltss. Of particular interest is the Atrivis Sector. The planets Mantooine and Fest had so far succeeded in overthrowing the Empire. However, they cannot hold for long against any sizable reinforcements. We are weeks away from having resources available, so I want to send you to Atrivis to see what you can do you help. If the planets can join forces, they might be able to coordinate their defence and hold until we can get reinforcements to them."
He pauses, and you can tell there is a downside.
"Fest and Mantooine have a history of war. Neither planet loves the other, but they also deeply mistrust each other and thay have no existing lines of communication. My hope is that you can find common ground. We expect an Imperial response within the sector within the month, but not before a week, so you will not have much time. We've secured transport. You'll leave as soon as you're ready - just let us know what you need. I understand you have an, uh, additional asset you'll want with you, and that's fine. You are looking to make contact with the Mantooine Liberators and the Fest Resistance Group - they should be easy to find, as they hold their respective planets."
He pauses to let all that sink in. "Any questions?"
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"Usually diplomacy of that caliber requires significant terms of agreement. Is there anything I can bring to the table? And on whose authority?"
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He blows a sigh.
"We're hoping that self-preservation, combined with your skills and information you can provide, will show them the wisdom of joining forces with the Rebel Alliance. Right now we cannot offer much - advisors and intelligence in the short term - you're an example of that. Supplies and weapons as we get them. Troops once we've rounded them up. The biggest thing we can give them right now is a defensive shield - it'll hold through any bombardment up to fleet strength. They sign on with us and accept joining the alliance, and we can have it set up and operating in a key location within 72 hours. It'll come with techs and operators, if they need them. Other than that, you'll have full authority to negotiate, subject to ratification by Alliance Command. We can't promise much right now.
"These people have kicked the Empire off their planets. What we need is for them to hold their worlds against the counter-attack that is certainly coming, until we can give them supplies and reinforcement."
He pauses.
"This is a test run, Agent Naja. If they can hold these worlds and keep the Empire off, it will show others than we are a serious option. If this works, we'll gain momentum. There's a dozen worlds on the brink of open rebellion, and they're watching what happens with the planets that have crossed that line. We win this, 20 more worlds fall. We loose these worlds, and we may be reduced to guerrilla warfare for the rest of the rebellion."
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Nim was quiet a moment as she processed the information. "What leads the expectation that it will be as soon as a week?" She powered up her wristcomp to bring up whatever she had on the planets and sector, including a map. "I'll need whatever intel and contacts you may have on the planets and sector along with a good history lesson. I'll send a list of personal items. What type of transport, public or a ship and pilot?"
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"We don't have time for public transport - ship and pilot. You'll have a dossier to review en-route, with everything we know about them. We've identified the leaders of the two factions, and their important deputies."
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Nim still studied the map. "Horuz appears to be nestled nice and cozy in the middle of the trade route between them. Do you suspect a response will come from there?"
She turned to the General with the actual concern.
"Every time we've taken the Imps head-on we've limped away from their dark jedi with missing body parts, holes in our guts and our own dead Jedi. Do we have any anti-Jedi resource in case they send one?"
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He shrugs. "The Empire seems more concerned about keeping Horuz quiet that anything else. I do not expect they'll launch something from there. Another fleet, from somewhere else, sure. But the assets in Horuz, if they are still there, are defending that station. They're not going to weaken that defence to put down a planetary rebellion.
"And, frankly, if a Jedi shows up on their side, this is going to be trouble. In the Republic days, one Jedi could turn the tide in a battle. But there's a lot less Jedi than there used to be. The Empire only has so many - the best estimate we have is 10 - and there's a dozen worlds in open rebellion right now. Apart from that, some Jedi are going to be guarding important assets, others will be hunting those who escaped from Horuz. Some are hunting down other Jedi that escaped Order 66. We like our chances. Long-term, we have plans on the drawing board to counter a Jedi, but there's nothing ready to go now. If one shows up, cut-and-run.
"And to clarify, we're not trying to face the Empire head on - we're trying to hunker down under a shield, and hold until we can get some reinforcements in place. Defence, not offence. We're trying to make a statement, to show the Galaxy that they can resist - use this to build support and weaken the Empire. A lot is riding on this mission, Agent Naja. You have very little to work with, I know. Are you up to this?"
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Nim shut down her holo display and smiled. "Yes, I am."
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He nods. "You'll depart in six hours. Get your team ready. I'll have your equipment on board when you leave."
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Several hours later, you are on board a shuttle with a small team of technicians, and a few thousand kilos of equipment.
Accessing her network, Nim finds notes on three private contacts on Fest, but none on Mantooine.
[OOC: Recall, you get to place those contacts where you like, and can "burn" them for a favour or aid.]
Other than for a couple of Imperial security flybys during navigation stops, the trip is uneventful. After several days, you eventually revert in the Fest system. You see it there out the cockpit viewport, a dirty snowball floating in space. You are approaching from the night side, so you can see numerous large swaths of lights that appear to follow geological patterns of valleys in mountain ranges. It is a heavily populated world, despite the climate.
[Initial plans? Land at the capitol? Establish comlink contact? Something else?]
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Ooc: We'll land at the capitol and try to establish contact with the leading faction leaders.
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The Empire has been kicked off Fest, but there is an orbital station that is still held by them. Primarily a trade hub with only defensive armaments, the Imperials there are not much of a threat. The space around the planet is devoid of ships, so your atmospheric entry goes unchallenged. Dropping below the clouds, you see the capitol city below, nestled in the arms of a mountain valley. You still are unchallenged, until you near one of the valley ridges when traffic control hails you. You talk your way through traffic control fairly easily - you have the feeling anything that doesn't have Imperial markings would be allowed to land. They seems pretty lax, and the mood of the controllers is pretty jubilant.
As the shuttle comes in, you see what looks like mobs in the streets. Closer inspection reveals that they appear to be celebrating rather than rioting. Anything with an Imperial slant to it - statues, checkpoints, guard towers - has been torn down or defaced.
You reach a landing pad near the centre of the city. As the shuttle goes through the final approach, you see the symbol of the faction that controls the capitol on graffiti and on crude banners all over the city.
The shuttle lands, and some smiling technicians come out of a nearby doorway. Your pilot goes to make arrangements for fuel and supplies. Otherwise, you seem unchallenged. You can hear celebratory sounds from the city carrying over the walls of the small spaceport where you landed.
As the two of you walk down the boarding ramp, the chill breeze reminds you why you packed cold weather gear. You are clearly going to need it. Glancing around, the architechture and colours, combined with the damage and vandalism, reveal that this was one an Imperial facility, obviously reclaimed by the rebels.
As you consider the wisdom of living in a place where the air hurts your face, a scruffy looking human male crunches through the show towards you. "Welcome to the freeport of Fest. I'm dockmaster for this facility. Name's Atonai Takan." He offers a thickly gloved hand.
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Trax shivered slightly when the boarding ramp opened. He'd thought about putting his armor on prior to landing but they were supposed to be here on friendly terms, a message his new armor was unlikely to convey.
When the dockmaster reached forward with his hand the man stepped forward, partially blocking the dockmaster from reaching Nim before taking the offered hand.
"Trax." he replied.
"Quite the celebration you've got going on, nice to know we didn't miss it."
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Even in warm civilian clothes the woman could feel the cold sting of the freezing planet and her breath catching in her lungs. It reminded her of the snowtop mountain on Corellia, a place she'd rather forget. At least she wasn't in just a short jacket and shorts this time. Though she did miss her Allie hat.
Instinctively Nim reached out to grasp the man’s hand but was momentarily blindsided by Trax’s abrupt interruption. She however continued on after as if nothing had happened at all, shaking it after he was finished. (Is he shaking his hand or just partially blocking them?)
“Nim,” she smiled, awaiting a reply about the celebration.
Ooc: haven't decided on where Buzz will be yet, ie present, stealth, pocketed. She's foregoing the Alliance uniform for now to purposely give a more civilian/rebel appearance.
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Nim gently-not-gently shoulders Trax aside and shakes Dockmaster Taiken's hand in turn.
Taiken smiles warmly. "We're a freeport now. No Imperial presence on planet, so if you got any goods to trade, no taxes or tarrifs." he beems proudly at that. "You folks need fuel or supplies? The imps left a lot behind when they turned tail. Reasonable rates. And if you got anything in your hold to trade, there's lotsa folks would be willing to buy."
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Her expression brightened even more. “A major congratulations are in order for sure. We’d like to help rebuild and recover from the occupation. Would you be able to point us in the right direction?”
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He looks at Nim quizzically, with a half smile. "Oh yeah? Who is we?"
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Nim could almost feel the dockmaster pressing for more. While reluctant to speak details with just anyone, she'd rather not start off on a bad foot. "The Rebel Alliance."
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"The people that broadcast that manifesto that sparked all this? Hoo boy, do I know some guys want to speak with you! They're set up in the old governor's mansion. I can get you are ride if you need it."
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"Any chance you can just hook us up with our own transportation?" Trax asked. The man was a little uncomfortable hopping into a vehicle under someone else's control.
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The dockmaster scrunches up his face, like he's trying to decide if he is confused or offended. "Well, I suppose you can rent a speeder instead."
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"Contributing to the economy," Nim smiled. "It's appreciated but we'll rent a speeder."
Ooc: Still unsure on buzz, could we get his stats including the battery life for various modules?
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"Right, fair enough. Come this way."
Nim spends a few minutes approving the contract and such. While she does that, Trax watches the street filled with revellers. These folks are certainly celebrating.
A couple of minutes later, the dockmaster walks you outside and hands you the passkey for a speeder. "Straight down the road here, take the third right, and the place you're looking for will be in the middle of the third block on your left."
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Trax took the key from the dockmaster.
"Perfect, thanks."
The man turned to Nim.
"If we're going to meet those in charge we should grab our stuff from the ship."
[OOC: Would Trax's armour protect him from the cold?]
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[OOC: it's not specifically designed for thermal protection. It's better than nothing, but don't expect to be out in the cold for very long without some extra protection.]
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"Sure," she replied, turning to do just that.
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"Right, listen," she started as they went back inside the ship. "Whatever that was back there? You can't be doing that kind of thing without warning me. Body language is, as I'm sure you know now, extremely important in communication. And I can't communicate effectively if you're making aggressive moves like that. To a lot of people you'd look like some shabuir or even a chauvinist. And I look weak by doing nothing about it. Not the look we're going for in negotiations."
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"Consider yourself warned." Trax replied, though there was a touch of humor in his voice.
"I personally don't care what people think of me as long as it keeps you safe." he continued, his voice now completely serious.
"I'll gladly piss ninety nine people off if it means I'll intercept that hundredth that's looking to attack you. That's what I'm here for, to protect you, and that doesn't just mean once we're in a combat situation.
It's the same reason that I asked for our own transportation. We're not getting into a vehicle where we don't know or trust the driver.
But I'm not entirely unreasonable, I'm willing to back off, a little, when we're in private meetings. But I'm still going to be right at your side. Anyone within arms reach of you, is within arms reach of me."
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Maris is lounging in the common area, feet on the table, watching the two of you.
"Trax, it's not what people think of you. It's what people think of her. If you walk around like a rabid kath hound, straining at the leash, growing and barking at everything that moves, it makes her look fearful and weak. And, believe it or not, there's people in this galaxy that don't trust people that look like you. Demanding you be present for every meeting with a contact or negotiation means that a lot of those meetings or negotiations are just not going to happen."
She lifts her feet off the table and stands up. "Besides, she's some flouncy diplomat. This atin'la chick was looking after herself long before you entered her life. She didn't build a network of spies and agents by being timid, infiltrate the Empire, or help you get off Horuz by being timid."
She puts a hand on Trax's shoulder. "Nim is not some delicate flower."
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Had this exchange happen prior to them leaving Alderaan, it was highly likely Trax would have gotten agitated by Maris' remarks and shot back with hostility, despite how relevant and accurate they were. But the exchange was happening now, not then. Though he was still a little irked by how sound the jedi's reasoning was.
"True, but during those times she had anonymity on her side..." he began to counter before turning to Nim.
"It's going to be impossible to check out every location before hand and I can't keep you safe if I'm miles away or we're separated by a blast door. You're known to them now, they are coming for us, for you. The Alliance is basically desperate for support, they'll use that against us." The man was pleading as much as he was making trying to explain his reasoning behind his views and actions.
[OOC: Not sure it affects Maris' comment on how he looks, but Trax isn't wearing his armor right now. Other than carrying his knife and pistols he should look fairly civilian. Granted the way he carries himself would be anything but.]
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Nim piped up before anything could escalate, should it. "There's merits to what everyone is saying. Yes, I should be protected so I can just worry about the job but at the same time I need to do the job. All I ask is for some heads up on anything else you might do that I'd have to cover or make excuses for. Since I'm a spook and not a politician with a silver tongue we need all the negotiation power possible, and my biggest asset is being able to project a certain image and read others'."
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"No one outside of us or the Alliance knows I'm nothing but an asset. Let me play the role of attache or whatever you see fit that let's me step in first and gives me an excuse to be close. I'll leave the armor behind if it helps sell it. And I'll promise to play nice.
Thought I actually played pretty nice with the dock master."
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Maris sighs and takes a seat again. "So what do you want me to do? If you need ideas, it occurs to me that there's a whole station of Imperials in orbit. Having someone on the inside there would be a bonus. I could see what I could do about getting in."
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Nim blinked for a second. "Huh. I figured being among the Imps would be the last place you'd like to be, even if they are neutered up there."
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"Yeah, I don't like that plan much.
Not that I don't think you can do it," he said to Maris.
"But we should be sticking to something more low key. Any job that requires use of your...abilities, might end up advertising your location.
Not that I'm not interested on what's going on there, between the Imps hunkered down in those bunkers down here and a station that's weaponry is defensive in nature makes me wonder what they've still got cooking here."
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Maris glances pointedly at Trax, then shrugs and looks at Nim. "Well, Nim. You're the only one here who signed on with the Rebels, and it's your butt in a sling if we kark this up, seems to me this is your mission and your call. I am at your disposal. Let me know what you want to do."
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"Hmm honestly? Just stay with us for now. You can be my aide or something. Gotta get a feel for this place before we decided to split up, I think. We're not here to directly deal with the leftovers anyway. Just need to get them to agree to let us help them, albeit on our terms."
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Trax's body language obviously indicated he agreed with Nim. Though it suddenly struck him as odd when he realized it, sticking together meant staying in close proximity to a jedi. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of that, other than his perceptions of Maris had obviously shifted and, at the moment anyway, he saw her as a person first, then a jedi.
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With roles selected, you leave instructions for the crew to keep the ship secure and have someone standing by on the comm, and head back to the dockmaster's office and out the front door into the street. Your rented speeder is there, and the three of you pile in, Trax driving. It is a short drive, made a little more complicated by debris in the street. it looks like the remains of a repulsor tank at one intersection, and a crashed TIE fighter and a bunch of debris from a damage building in another. Through that and dodging revellers, a 10 minutes drive takes closer to thirty, but you end up in front of the makeshift home of the provisional government for this region.
The building has obviously seen heavy action, and the front of it is riddled with blaster scorch marks and evidence of heavier weapons. There isn't a window on the front of the building that has not been shot out. There are half a dozen guards by the main doors. As you pull up, you see a large crowd gathered. Nim immediately assesses their mood as angry. On the steps of the building, there are half a dozen people kneeling, hands tied behind their backs. Their heads have been shaved, and they have obviously been beaten. A few locals stand behind them with weapons, and are yelling at the crowd, apparently whipping them into a frenzy.
[Actions?]
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"Guess it's not all party and celebrate." Trax said as he took in the scene. The man took his hands off the speeder controls, put them on his blasters...and switched them both to stun.
He had two guesses as to who the prisoners were, either members of the 'current government', with which some of the locals were already very unhappy with, or captured imperials. The latter he figured was less likely, why would a crowd have captured imperials, one would expect they'd be in a cell or in a hole somewhere.
Trax glanced around, looking for a 'safe' place to leave the speeder.
[OOC: Michelle says Trax's role is security so he'll be armored up. Given that the armor doesn't give much protection from the elements, if at all possible he'll have the cold weather gear over top. His helmet is currently off.]
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"Mmm. Not good," she replied, staring mostly out at whomever appears to be in charge of the group.
{I thought I signed up for Intel, not secretary of state.}
OOC: Helmet is off. Buzz will be on but pocketed. Just reading the situation for now, I want to hear what they're saying.
I do some internal dialogue in italics so I guess we'll make nim/buzz chats be in brackets?
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[OOC: Curly brackets.]
The speaker is yelling at the crowd.
"...to enslave OUR PEOPLE! Your families suffered under Imperial rule, and these gutless cowards partook of the fruits of that oppression! Their lives were made easier while the rest of us SUFFERED! They slept with them! Made money from them! Lived a life of luxury, while the rest of us lived and died in the mines and factories!"
The crowd roars in anger. The body language is frightening - this crowd is very close to becoming a mob.
The prisoners, dressed in torn clothing, have no cold-weather gear. Most are shivering violently. Two stare blankly without shivering, their skin very pale. [First Aid] Nim can see advanced hypothermia setting in. If they do not get warm soon, they will die of it.
As you approach, the crowd is content to ignore you. There is enough room to skirt the crowd and enter the building by the main doors. With the attention of the crowd on the prisoners, it is unlikely they would even notice the three of you.
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"Kark. We have to do something. I realize it might severely compromise our ability to get them to sign on to us, but if they're going to be ruled by mob mentality and violence then we don't want 'em anyway."
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You hear Maris' voice, thick with emotion. She sounds... dangerous. "I got a few ideas... but I'm open to suggestions."
Glancing at Maris, Nim can see she is struggling with the situation. She wants to do something, but fears drawing attention to herself, and worries about disrupting your mission. Her fists are clenched tight at her sides.
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So do I, leave them to their fate... Trax thought at first.
But then he thought of Mariah, she had been spying on the KDF for Cali, what if that was her up there. He didn't know why the girl had agreed to spy for him, she knew it was wrong. But whether it was for reasons of debt, or survival, she had agreed to do it. It was plausible that the ones up there did it for similar reasons.
The man let it a small growl, frustrated with himself.
"Violence on our part will only make things worse. We need to talk them down, which means getting up there and dealing with the loud mouth in front of the crowd. If we can sway the crowd he loses his power."
He looked at Nim.
"By we I mean you of course. You're the smooth talker after all."
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“Uh, sure, one on one maybe.. I don't really do this whole public thing either you know. The diner waitress cover was about as public as I get…”
She turned to Maris and gently laid a hand on her arm. “Even so, I agree, nothing dangerous or violent, and I would rather not put you in the spotlight. I’ll go up there myself but if you have other ideas I’m all ears.”
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Maris' fists are clenched. "I've a few but they're not going to make friends."
She takes a breath, and says in a somewhat calmer tone, "I can use a mind trick on one, or even two. Not a whole crowd."
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Trax let out something close to a sigh as he watched the crowd.
"Unfortunately we are here to actually make friends. Not necessarily with them," he indicated the crowd, "but it might go a long way to making friends with those in charge.
On the flip side, those in charge don't appear to be doing anything, for all we know they don't care or want them to be executed."
Trax partially turned to Maris.
"Can you read thoughts? Anything we can get from loud mouth or others in the crowd might give us insight in to how to sway them as a whole, see if we can't find a way to tug at their conscience.
People do all sorts of questionable things to survive, if we can paint it like they had no choice, or did what they did to help or save others..." Trax gave a slight shrug, "or something."
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Maris closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and extends a hand slightly towards the figures.
A moment later, she says in an absent-minded sort of voice, "The one in the front was jealous because he wanted a relationship with the woman on the end, but she was with an Imperial. Her mind is full of thoughts of a mate killed, and a son gone missing, and Imperial soldiers."
She is quiet again. "The persecutor on the right is afraid people will find out he sold black market goods to the Imperials. He's afraid it's going to be him on the steps next."
"The persecutor on the left was in competition with the two prisoners, and wants their businesses."
"The two at the back are terrified, but are not sure how to stop this. They are afraid of the guy doing the yelling."
She is quiet again, and her brow crinkles in concentration. "The one doing the yelling... he was in prison. He thinks an informant put him there - maybe one of the prisoners, he doesn't know." She is quiet again. "So... much... hate... they... did terrible things to... me... Day after day... the pain! I'll find who did it... I will kill them... I will KILL THEM ALL!"
She pulls back her hand as if she had been burned and her eyes fly open. She looks around for a moment as if she is not sure where she is, and she starts shivering. She takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself. In a shaky voice Maris says, "The... the leader... He's ready to kill. Wants to. So much anger..."
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Nim just stared and blinked at Maris for a moment. "Whoa... and Nightshade called me a majo.."
She turned to the protocol droid. "Do you have a loudspeaker function?"
OOC: The "one in front" and "woman on the end" are they part of the crowd or prisoners?
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The droid turns to Nim. "Why, yes, mistress. I have been programmed for a wide array of public address functions."
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OOC: The "one in front" and "woman on the end" are they part of the crowd, or prisoners?
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The woman on the end is tied up, and her head has been shaved.
The one on front is a persecutor, standing directly behind the prisoners and in front of the yelling dude.
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“Alright. You two with me,” Nim pointed to the droid and Maris. “I want to be as loud if not louder than that asshat.” She turned to Trax last. “I’ll disrupt and debate if I have to, but if I can’t convince the majority then so be it. We’re guests in this house. So like, hang back and uh.. try to.. blend in?”
Nim gestured to the droid to start up the speaker. Straightening her new Alliance uniform she started walking forward with a purposeful gait, waving a friendly hand to the crowd as if she hadn’t seen anything going on.
“Greetings, Citizens of Fest! The Alliance to Restore the Republic formally congratulates you on your liberation from the Empire. The galaxy has one less planet in the clutches of tyranny, oppression, and slavery!”
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Trax watched the two women and droid walk away.
Yeah, because I blend in real easy everywhere I go...
The man put his helmet on and hopped out of the speeder, walking a path that was perpendicular to the others. When Nim's voice began to ring over the droid's loud speaker he stopped, then turned to head towards the crowd, as if he was interested in this new developement.
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The droid follows Nim forward, Maris hanging a little back but still in arms reach. You are approaching from behind and to the left of the crowd as Nim's amplified voice booms out. Those int he back of the crowd turn towards Nim, and like ripples other heads turn as well. Finally the ringleader at the top of the steps turns. Everything is quiet - no one speaks. You see some uncomfortable looks, like kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Some faces are challenging. Some are curious.
No one speaks.
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Trax took advantage of the opportunity, and with all eyes on Nim, he skirted the edge of the crowd and moved as far as he could to the front. His ideal position would put him within 10 meters of the leader and prisoners but he didn't want to bump anyone out of the way, at least not yet.
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Her mind screamed back about staying anonymous, that Allie didn't die just so she could go make herself an even better target, but it was far too late for that.
The sudden silence and full attention was unsettling, but she couldn't skip a beat. There was an obvious reason Lorrdians were the best actors in the galaxy and she had to use it to its full advantage.
“My name is Nim Naja, and I represent the Alliance.”
With a smile and a firm hand she greeted the people on the outside of the crowd with a short “congratulations” to anyone that offered a hand in response to hers, even reluctantly. The woman wanted them to feel as if they were on familiar and friendly terms.
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Nim's amplified voice carries all up and down the street. As she moves forward, Trax moves into a position to flank the crowd and keep an eye on... well, everyone.
Nim says she represents the Allaince. The quiet persists for a moment longer. Then someone calls out, "You mean the people that sent the Declaration of Rebellion?"
Nim gives a smile and says, "Yup."
The crowd erupts into cheers, and the surge forward, reaching their hands out. Trax's hand flies to his blaster and Maris moves to block them, but instead of doing anything violent, the crowd takes turns energetically shaking Nim's hand. There is such an outpouring of joy directed at Nim that at first she is overwhelmed.
'Thank you... such an inspiration... gave us the courage... how many others? where did you come from?" get said to her from too many people to keep track of.
Nim has suddenly become the focus of the crowd, and out of the corner of her eye, through her throng of suddenly adoring fans, Nim watches the folks on the steps that were persecuting the prisoners. Some of them, relief on their faces, join the throng. Two others, looking uncofmortable, try to fade into the background. But the big guy with the scars stands there, not quite sure how to respond. He wanted blood today, to inspire his fellow citizens, but his audience has been taken away and he fumes there now in impotent anger.
[Actions?]
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It took significant effort for Trax not to move in when the crowd basically enveloped Nim, even though they appeared and acted friendly. He took his hands off his still holstered blasters and moved close to the loud mouth. The man was fuming and was still very dangerous, to the prisoners, and to Nim.
[OOC: Trying to stay out of the guy's field of vision and move into melee range.]
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Nim was totally overwhelmed by the reaction. She thought maybe one or two might nod or shake a hand, not the entire crowd and the people pouring in from the street!
She shook and congratulated as many as she could but eventually stepped back to address them again. As her eyes scanned the crowd while she spoke they landed on the loudmouth a few times as if trying to persuade him as well.
“Friends, I know you all have suffered long under the Empire and have sacrificed much to be here in this moment. That is why this should be a day of celebration. Please, leave the prisoners to an impartial justice system. Summary judgments and executions should fall with the empire. Let's be better than them, aye? Fair trials for everyone, a standard of a real democracy. This planet is yours now, you can set the standard for the dozen other planets in open rebellion. Show them how to rebuild and make the planet home again, free of imperial influence. Free of tyranny, and full of the hope and dreams you've had all these dark years. And for the love of the Maker, show them how to celebrate!”
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[OOC: You are killing these persuade rolls...
Result of the throw of dice "5d6 +1" : 5 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 5 + 1 = 29. The last one was a 27.]
With these words, the crowd grows silent. They know what they had been witnessing, and you calling it out forces them to confront it. In one's and two's, they turn to look at the folks on the top of the stairs.
Faced with the collective attention of the now sympathetic crowd, the resolve of those near the prisoners wavers. Silence stretches, one moment to the next. Then, one of the reluctant persecutors calls out, "She's right. We do this, we're no better than what came before." He then throws down his weapon. It clatters on the ground and skitters a few steps down. The crowd murmurs agreement. Then two others join their companion an denouncing violence and stepping to the side of the crowd. Momentum builds until the ringleader stands alone. He looks around to the faces of his neighbours and friends, working his jaw.
"But they sold us all out! I was tortured for MONTHS because of people like them!"
The first persecutor to change their mind says, "Do you know it was these people here? Are you certain these people are the ones that gave you up?"
He doesn't answer, but Nim can tell he is wavering - but teetering between extremes though - violence is still a real possibility.
Trax moves surreptitiously around the crowd and moves up the stairs behind the ringleader. [OOC: Not melee range yet, but you're within a move.]
Maris steps up to stand very close on Nim's left side.
[Actions?]
-
Trax paused a moment after moving up the stairs and looked down at Nim, marvelling at the power the woman could wield. With nothing but words she'd placated an angry mob, and even a few individuals that seemed dead set on killing. Simply remarkable.
But there was still one possible threat, and though Nim's next words might disarm him as well, he had to be ready.
[OOC: Try to get closer and be ready to stop him if he tried to shoot. If possible, use Brawling: Martial Arts to disarm him or grab his arm/the rifle so he can't target anyone.]
-
Nim slowly walked through the parted crowd until she stood before the ringleader, her hands at her sides. Her heart pounded with adrenaline from the anxiety and some fear. But with boldness she stood below him and looked up, open and vulnerable and speaking with the voice of a thousand victims of the Empire.
“Brother, your anger is justified.”
“Our mothers and fathers, sons and daughters have all been terrorized by the war machine. All throughout the galaxy so many of us have lost loved ones to its violence. Many of us have lost loved ones to its unjust persecution. So many have died in prison let alone slave camps. So it is natural to want to do the same to others. To punish them in the ways they punished us. To continue the traditions, and do what the Empire taught us to do.”
“But did we not fight to end the tyranny? Did we not fight to end summary judgements and executions, and free people from their unjust persecution? From prisons and slave camps, put there for reasons they were not guilty of, or not even told of at all?”
Her hands raised before her in supplication.
“Again, your anger is justified. It runs through your veins as it does mine, and all of our people. But continuing these imperial traditions means they win in the end. Society will be the same just under a different name.
“And your anger, our anger, we need that fervent energy to rebuild society. Let us put it to better use and help Fest restore itself, or help the Alliance free more victims or stop the machine from claiming more of the galaxy. These people need you - we all need you. Will you help us?”
Nim lowered one hand and raised the other higher, gesturing for him to take it. Her expression was hopeful, pleading but not begging, and honest. No lies, no half-truths. The woman simply said it how it is and how it must be.
Ooc: Nim is fully concentrated on persuasion and nothing else, including anything reactive.
-
As you step forward, you feel Maris close by your side, and can see Trax moving slowly up behind the ringleader.
You hold his attention as you speak, but your words have far more effect on the crowd than they do on the ringleader. He stands there behind the central prisoner, pistol on his hand, breathing heavily. Your placating gesture does not seem to mollify him, but he is clearly torn. When you offer him your hand, you press him to a decision point.
Quietly, with a building fury he says, "I will not help free these TRAITORS!" He starts to wring the gun around towards you, and Trax lowers his head and breaks into a sprint towards him. You stand there, committed to passivity, as he raises his blaster to point it to you. Trax is closing, but he cannot get there in time. You tense, waiting for the burning pain, as you see his finger tense on the firing stud. Then, somehow, the pistol is just gone. One instant it was in his hand, the next it is not there.
Trax collides with the man, catching him off-guard, and carries him quickly to the floor. Before the man can react, Trax has both the man's hands behind him and is kneeling on his neck.
You catch a flash of movement from Maris beside you, and the ringleader's pistol skitters over the ground, coming to a stop close to, but out of reach of the ringleader.
The crowd pauses, unsure what to do next, but they are clearly shocked at what happened. As you try and absorb what took place, three of the former prosecutors move to the prisoners and start to untie them.
[Actions?]
Trax has the man grappled and restrained.
-
Trax was angry with himself for deciding not to shoot the bastard, but he was thankful his error in judgement was minimized by Maris.
"Not all prisons have bars, and not all torture is physical in nature." Trax growled at the man, pressing his knee hard into his neck. It was taking a lot for him not to kill this man who had just tried to shoot Nim.
-
Nim breathed deeply for a moment to calm her nerves. Clearly she very nearly did stand there and take a blaster bolt. Thing is, she would have if it meant Maris wouldn't expose herself to those searching for her, assuming she had performed some sort if Force feat to wrench the pistol away. Nim was afraid of the impact that single action would have. Even so, she thanked her quietly via her internal comm, as well as Trax, although added a 'be nice' in there somewhere. Roughing up the ringleader would have an adverse effect on the crowd.
"It is unfortunate, but he is neither the first nor the last that cannot accept what has happened and move forward. But let us not blame him, it is a very, very difficult thing to achieve. Please help me get these people out of the cold and detained somewhere safe from others."
She turned back to the crowd to comfort them in some way after having witnessed an attempted murder before their eyes.
In some way at least they would know now what it would have looked and felt like had the prisoners all been shot.
-
"Be nice..." Trax grumbled to himself out loud.
"The woman you tried to kill just saved your life. I suggest you take some time to think about that." He growled to the man before not so gently hauling him up onto his feet.
-
The man beneath Trax struggled uselessly. His anger is fierce enough to prevent coherent speech.
The main doors to the building open, and a dozen armed and uniformed people emerge, along with a woman with an eye patch and a scarred face. They come forward, and the woman looks over the situation. With a nod to the man on the ground she says, "Take him into custody." She then waves to the former prisoners. "Them too, but be gentle and make sure they get a hot meal."
The uniformed folks take custody of the ringleader and the former prisoners, leading them into the building before you.
The woman, dressed in a long blue coat with a white fur trim and high black boots, looks Nim over. "Alliance, hmm? What brings you to Fest?"
-
Ooc: Can I get a read on the woman? I'm looking to identify her from our Intel and also see how best to speak with her.
-
She's pretty cagey, and masks her emotions well. You don't think she's senior leadership, and she doesn't match any of the dossiers you were provided. But the way she holds herself... the shifting eyes. She might be intelligence. Not back office - she's from the field, though maybe senior.
-
"Intel..field," Nim very softly murmured into her implant comlink after eyeballing the woman for a quick moment. It really didn't matter if she knew Nim was intel a this point. She relaxed into a loose parade rest and addressed her.
"Greetings. We heard of the liberation and wish to discuss bringing Fest into the fold."
-
She looks Nim over, glancing at Maris and Trax.
"So you're some sort of negotiation team then? Kinda heavily armed for that sort of work, hey?"
-
Nim glanced at Trax nearby the woman. “Trax always dresses that way. Never know when you need to quell someone else’s mob.”
-
It was hard for Trax to keep his mouth shut.
Nim was right, she just stopped an execution that they couldn't, or wouldn't. And nearly died in the process. It was much less likely for him to show his current level of restraint the next time. This situation alone called for them to be geared up and prepared, not to mention fact that they were representing a group that openly declared war on the Empire. Fest may have just kicked the Imperials off the planet, but there still going to be remnants of Imperial presence, such as the bunkers and station in orbit, as well as forces scattered about.
-
The woman smiles, nodding her head once at Nim. "I like you." She offers her hand. "I'm Teris. Come on, the council will want to meet you." She glances at Maris and Trax. "Your friends are welcome to come as well, or wait out here as you wish."
-
Nim smiled and appropriately shook her hand in turn. Not too weak, and not too strong, only just right. "In that case it's good to meet you then," she slightly smirked. "I'm Nim, my assistant (whatever name Maris chose), and Trax, of course." She introduced them with a gesture.
She wasn't sure if Trax would shake, nod, grunt or completely ignore the other woman so she spoke to him to preemptively fill in any awkward pauses. "Up to you if you want to come with."
-
[OOC: Trax will shake her hand if Teris offers hers.]
Trax took his helmet off and took a deep, chilled breath.
"It's gotta be warmer than out here." he said, indicating his preference to go with.
-
Maris and Trax fall in behind Nim and Teris, and the four of you walk into the building as the crowd, all whispers and excited discussions, slowly disperses behind you.
Teris takes you through the main lobby. It is rich and lavish, but the furnishings and walls are marred with the pock-marks of blaster fire. You pass through the main doors to a short corridor and another set of doors. After a short delay, these doors also open to reveal a somewhat dishevelled command centre. At a table behind a row of consoles, you see half a dozen people standing, looking at you expectantly.
Teris takes you through the banks of machinery to the table, where those there pull together to make space for you.
"Nim, allow me to introduce Enric Meday, the leader of the Fest Provisional Government. Counsellor Meday, this is Nim - a representative of the group who broadcast that manifesto of rebellion that spurred our people to overthrow the Empire. Her companions are Trax and Vash."
[Maris is using the name Vash here, Vash'aja is the long form.]
Enric Meday is an imposing male. His body language is all suspicion, like he does not trust your motives in being here. However, he does nod, and gestures to Teris. "That's Valara Streng. She probably told you another name."
Valara frowns. "Enric, we talked about this..." He waves her concern away.
He then points around the table. "That's Sayl Murray." The human male nods. You note he is armed. "That's Alys Madine." She is also armed, with several knives, three pistols and two slung rifles cross-crossing her back. She does not react to the introduction, just stares at you. "That's Raddi Dulius." The somewhat timid-looking man nods. "Next is Lasseya Corr." The long-haired human female gives you a slight nod. "And finally, Balita Dusat." The human male nods at you. They are all dressed in winter clothes.
The reading of the room is a mix of curiosity, suspicion and mild hostility.
Enric continues, turning to you confrontationally. "What brings you here, Nim? Just what business does your rebellion have on Fest?" His posture is challenging. He seems primed to expect requests for help, which he fully intends to refuse.
-
Nim nodded to them all in turn, recognizing all but the last two names. Valara was growing on her. It was good to already have a potential ally.
It wasn't difficult to read Enric; she might as well be reading Trax. Despite his obvious eventual reply, the woman looked right to him and only said one word, her expression a mask:
"Help."
-
He looks skeptical, and his mouth twists like he was sucking on a lime. "Asking? Or offering?"
-
Nim was a little disappointed, she'd expected him to simply go on a rant. Oh well.
"Offering. In joining the Alliance we will assist Fest now and in the coming months in exchange for its help later."
-
He crosses his arms and works his jaw. "And what help can you give us?" He adopts a mocking tone. "Advisors?" Then he shakes his head. "Not interested in having a bunch of off-worlders tell us what to do and how to do it."
-
Trax glanced around the room as they entered and took stock of who was armed with what but otherwise remained quiet, just watching and listening to the exchange going on. He wasn't entirely sure how he wanted to feel about Enric. On one hand, the guy appeared to be brutally honest and had no qualms about sharing how he felt. Trax liked that. But mainly because he decided not to take the advisors comment as a direct insult to Nim, though it was a close call. A very close call.
On the other hand, the man seemed a little short sighted. Yes, his people had just kicked the Imperials out of their home, but he had to expect that there was a chance they'd return, and in numbers large enough to take back the planet. And he'd just insulted the group that came offering a hand. Not the wisest of decisions in his mind. Especially without hearing what they had to offer first.
He knew how he'd respond, he'd fire back at the man, out doing the mockery just dealt. But that's probably the best reason why this wasn't his mission, it was Nim's.
-
The man was only half right. She was interested in telling him what to do but also where to do it. The Lorrdian could almost just feel Trax thinking the same. But alas..
“I wouldn't dismiss advisors so quickly - you've seen what a politician with a silver tongue can do to a galaxy without lifting a finger. Fortunately for you I and my crew are not here merely for advising.”
Nim tapped into her wristcomp and produced a holomap to start making a case.
“Right now there are a dozen worlds in open rebellion because you gave them hope that they too can overthrow the Empire. Even if you couldn't give half a womp-rat's ass about them, it still affects you greatly. Mantooine has likewise kicked out the Imperials. This means that both of your sectors are ripe for a full-scale retaliation to set an example to those dozen worlds of what happens when you cross them. If you don’t think that’s much of a threat, allow me to tell you that the Empire put down a small rebellion on one world.. and rendered it completely sterile.
“So, scoff at advisers all you want. But that mob outside with pitchforks and torches had better have its osik together for a response in as early as a week..”
-
He openly scoffs.
"Yer right. I don't give a rats ass about other systems - least of all those bastards on Mantooine. When our people were slaving and dying in the phrikite mines under the Empire's lash, and being poisoned by the Empire's smelters, did anyone in the galaxy give a rats ass about us?" He pauses, letting the tension build.
"That message your people broadcast - I'll admit it gave us a boost. The whole population rose up. But if you think that earns you more than a 'thank you,' you're sadly wrong. Fest is soaked in the blood of our people. I'll be damned I surrender the freedom we won by trading one dictator for another."
Valara places a hand on Enric's arm. "Enric..."
He looks at her angrily. "What?"
Valara withdraws her hand. "Sure, we rose up. But we're hardly united. With all the different factions arguing, we're on track to start the civil war all over again. If the Empire shows up with a battlegroup, they can carve us up piece meal, and we go back to hiding in caves."
Enric's frown deepens. "And that's true if we have 'advisors' or not. I'd rather die free than accept another dictator." He turns to Nim. "Advice isn't going to be much help against a battlegroup. If that's all you got to offer, we're done talking."
-
Nim stared at Enric for a rather long moment, studying the man and gauging him with pale sapphire orbs. Eventually she switched the holomap to a blueprint.
"We brought a planetary defense shield with a crew to operate it. If you can somehow get the factions to cooperate and defend against the impending Imperials, the Alliance can send aid in the form of manpower, weapons, and food."
As if to show she had done her homework on their dossiers, as she spoke her eyes engaged individually each of the individuals said to be in charge of the military, civilians, and supplies. And it was to them that she spoke to next- they needed to help move Enric.
"My advice, whether you decide to join the Alliance or not, is to take the shield and rally your people. Defend yourselves and send the Imperials back where they came from. Show your people and the galaxy that it can be done.”
It was not a direct plea, but Nim’s expression told the lieutenants that they needed to speak up for their individual departments. Her eyes moved over to Trax and Maris, as if asking if they had anything that could help persuade them. She knew that by taking the generator Enric at the very least would feel indebted to the Alliance, so he could very well still decline.
-
That causes Enric to raise an eyebrow. He and Valara share a look.
"Defence shield... Well, that is something..."
Sayl Murray says, "With a shield, we can force the Empire to fight on the ground. No bombardments. They'll have to engages us on our terms."
Alys Madine says, "Enric. If they can give us more shields, we can protect manufacturing centres. Mines. Refineries."
Raddi Dulius adds, "And population centres."
Lasseya Corr says, "Shields means no air cover either, while our speeders and drones can still operate on a limited basis."
Balita Dusat strokes his chin. "Food production is already a problem. Thanks to the Empire, we are still not self sufficient. When the Imperial stockpiles are gone, we're going to be looking at a lot of hungry people. We need months - maybe years - to restore food production to pre-civil war levels." He glances at Nim.
Valara shakes her head. "Unifying the factions is going to be a hard sell. Without some unifying event, like a battle group in orbit, they're not likely to join us, and we're not going to be quick to join anyone else. There's too much bad blood from the civil war, and the Empire only deepened those rifts through competing quotas when they were here. But... if Nim can bring them into the fold with, say, compromise leadership candidate, we all might be able to accept the alliance in command over one of our own."
Enric looks unhappy at the discussion, and how much it reveals to you of their internal struggles. Still, their words carry weight.
"All right, all right! Quit all your yammering!" He takes a breath before turning to you. "You've given us a lot to talk about..." He glares at all of them in turn as he says, "... in private!" Turning back to you he says, "We'll find you a place to stay. Give us a chance to talk this over. But we need hard specs on this shield, and training for our own. I'll want my people running the thing before too long."
-
She felt relieved that Enric didn’t just simply decline. With a nod of her head she accepted his requests. No smile, just neutral acceptance and an appropriately short response so as not to annoy him.
“I have the specs here and the crew is standing by for when you are ready.”
Nim did, however, nod gratefully to the others in the room.
-
You hand over a small datapad with the specifications of the equipment you brought. Valara smiles as she approaches you, and escorts the three of you from the room.
Outside the chamber door, she waves someone over before turning to you.
"I meant what I said in there, Nim. There's too much bad blood between the factions - too many painful memories and much blood spilled. If you're going to unite Fest, your people are going to need to provide strong leadership. A structure, commanders. Even if you can buy everyone's acceptance with shield tech and supplies, they'll still be at each other's throats without someone to guide their efforts and rein them in."
She offers you her hand.
"I'll do what I can for our side, but you still have work to do if you want to make this work."
A young individual in rough clothing carrying a rifle on his back, and a pistol on his hip, walks up.
"Nim, this is Lieutenant Carver. He will find you some quarters, and attend you as liaison during your visit." She turns to the Lieutenant. "Carver, until further notice, you report to Nim. I'll notify your chain you are on detached duty. Find them some quarters worthy of a diplomat, and see to their needs. They have free run of the city."
He looks back and forth between you and Valara. "Yes, Ma'am."
Valara turns and walks back into the chamber, leaving the three of you alone with Lieutenant Carver.
"If you'll come this way? There's some open quarters two floors up that I think will suit."
-
"So now what?" Trax finally piped up as they walked.
"Sit around until they want to chat again?"
-
"Honestly don't know," she shrugged and then turned to the Lieutenant. "What are the other factions like? If we go look for them, would they shoot first, ask questions later?"
-
The Lieutenant returns the shrug. "I don't really know them. We're not a single society. The geography and environmental conditions means we don't get a lot of cross-pollination between population centres. But I don't think any are the kind to shoot without asking questions first. You might find some cold receptions, or maybe even get arrested, but I don't think anyone is going to shoot you out of the sky without at least giving you the chance to talk, so long as you're not flying an Imperial ship."
-
"What about communicating with them without having to hop around the planet? Or would we just get flipped off and disconnected?"
-
"I wouldn't really know about that, Sir."
-
"Then we should find someone who does." he said to no one in particular.
"We don't have the time to go around from faction to faction and risk getting jailed or otherwise held up for days trying to bring them around.
Is there anywhere on the planet that might be considered neutral territory?" he asked the lieutenant.
-
Nim raised a brow. "Just what charges would someone bring on us? Attempting to save the planet?"
-
Lieutenant Carver looks uncomfortable. "Probably espionage, Ma'am. There's a lot of distrust between the different factions. The civil war was long and bloody, and still in living memory for half the population. Prejudice between factions is going to be a problem to any unification effort."
-
"Is there anywhere on the planet that might be considered neutral territory?" he asked the lieutenant.
-
The Lieutenant shakes his head. "Maybe the Imperial Bunkers, though I don't think that's strictly speaking, neutral. There's some plateaus and such that are not populated. I know of an old atmospheric research station maybe. But anywhere that's populated is in the valleys and each valley is controlled by a separate faction. We here are the biggest population centre on the planet, but we control less than 25% of the livable area. The mountaintops are too cold, wind-blown, and resource-poor for permanent settlements. There might be a few smuggler dens in the smaller remote valleys, but nothing official."
-
Trax thought it over. Part of him would prefer to have any meeting in an open area, less likely for anyone to try a ground assault, but without proper air defences, they'd be easy pickings from a fighter or bomber.
"Well we're going to have to figure out something that'll draw most of them out, and in a place where they won't automatically think it's a trap.
Thing is we're also on something of a tight deadline if the intel on the impending retaliatory strike by the Empire is accurate."
Then he wondered, what about using their common ground? Asking the others to come together to roust one of the imperial bunkers. Maybe, but that would be a discussion to be had in private.
-
The Lieutenant shrugs. "The weather station. Bad spot for an ambush. It's a clear, elevated location, and very exposed. No way anyone could hide troops there. It's also well-known. That station was supposed to help us terraform this place under the Old Republic. That all fell through when the Empire rose, so it's a sore spot. Everyone will know where it is. If you want a face-to-face meeting, that might work."
-
"Might be a symbolic place to meet, assuming no one dwells on the fact that it failed the first time around."
-
"Can't believe I'm about to do this but I agree with Trax. Ew.."
-
The lieutenant considers a moment.
"It might be better if any invitation comes from you, but we don't have secure communications, but you could make a broadcast I suppose?"
-
The former hunter smirked and let out a small huff.
"Life would be a lot easier if you did that more often." he replied to Nim before turning to the lieutenant.
"Yeah, given your history it should definitely come from the Alliance. A public broadcast would definitely be the quickest route, but it might invite some unwanted parties." he said, thinking of the fact that if the Imperials do pick up a signal, they'll know where Nim is.
"What do you think?" he asked turning back to Nim.
"Willing to be the face of the Alliance to an entire planet?"
-
"Uuugh," she replied, rolling her eyes and grumbling. "And let's just let all the Imps know I'm here while we're at it. Not that the mob isn't already talking about my near death experience at the hands of one of their own."
She turned to Maris. "What do you think?"
-
Even under her hood, you can feel a little discomfort from Maris.
"Neutral ground makes sense. But they have no reason to trust each other, so you need to offer them something that makes their perceived risk worthwhile - something that can each take back with them, regardless of any agreements. And don't expect leaders to come - they'll be more comfortable sending seconds and aids. But..." She hesitates.
"A general broadcast is going to open up the risk of Imperial intervention. The Imperials may have surrendered the planet, but they are still a presence on the ground. They are contained, but you have to assume they can still communicate with the rest of the Empire, or Imperial agents on planet. Putting members of every rebel group in one place is a perfect opportunity for the Empire to strike. Even if they only gets aids and seconds, it makes it much less likely you'll be able to get them together again. The Empire follows up with a simple misinformation campaign that one of the groups has a traitor, and any alliance is going to be a long uphill battle.
"As I see it, there's two options. A long, hard slog going faction to faction. Or, you set up a meeting via a broadcast, offer them something extremely valuable that justifies the risk. You're still exposed to the Empire sending agents. However, with a short-enough lead time, the Empire won't have time to, say, send in a Star Destroyer for an orbital bombardment. Trax and I can handle a few agents."
-
And as far as Trax could figure, they didn't have anything of value to offer. Which for the short term meant finding and getting something first, or coming back to this after more pressing matters had been dealt with.
"Where's a good place to get a drink?" Trax asked the lieutenant, changing the subject.
-
That brightens the face of the Lieutenant. "I know a good place. The main bar in town was... burned down. But loyalists have started a new one just down the street. I''d be happy to show you."
-
"First round is on me then." Trax began.
"Do you need to wait until your off duty or can we count it as an official assignment. We can call it being a guide to visiting dignitaries or something."
-
Nim had to laugh. "Cantina trawling as a guide to visiting dignitaries. I love this man."
-
He looks a little chastened at that, but shrugs. "I'm no diplomat. Come on."
You head out into the frigid air. The crowd that had been at the front of the building is gone, and there is little sign there had been a deadly drama played out there a short time ago.
You hunch against the cold and follow your eager guide down the street. Two blocks through the slushy roads, you find yourselves standing before what may have once been an office building. There's large holds in the wall facing you, and pock-marks in the fascia that would have come from small arms fire. Lieutenant Carver doesn't hesitate as he ducks his head under a crudely painted sign and ducks inside.
You enter, and find yourselves in a dimly light building that has obviously seen a firefight. Interior walls have been torn down, leaving ragged edges behind where they used to stand. Several crates, cracked barrels and other similar items are serving as chairs and tables. What appears to have been a cabinet, now charred and splintered, lies on it's side for use as a bar. And behind the makeshift bar, two males and a female, all human, serve drinks to a quiet crowd of about thirty people. Several barrels with the tops cut off hold fires, casting a flickering light over the scene, and filling the room with a little smoke. Two space heaters behind the bar help warm the place, back-lighting the servers with a ruddy orange light.
By the time you get in, Lieutenant Carver is halfway to the bar. People greet him with smiles and claps on the shoulder - he seems well known here. But when you make your entrance, the place quickly comes to a standstill.
The patrons are all grubby, wearing their cold weather gear since the giant hole in one wall does little to keep out the cold. They all look rough, faces and clothes dirty. They stare at the two of you, caught somewhere between curiosity and hostility. Nim can feel Maris stand a little closer to her as the crowd eyes you up.
Lieutenant Carver stops, looking around confused, then seems to realize what's going on. 'It's OK," he says. "They're with me. They're from the rebellion."
There is a moment of silence. Someone asks, "The rebels who made that broadcast?"
Carver, beaming, nods. "The very same."
The mood instantly changes. A cheer goes through the crowd, and you are all but swarmed with people patting you all on the back, and / or pressing drinks into your hands, saying things along the lines of:
"... inspired us to kick them off..."
"... figured if you could, then so could we..."
"... never thought it could be done, until... "
Carver comes back to you, shoving his way good-naturedly through the throng.
"All right, all right. Give them some air! They came here to relax, not get pawed over!" Carver is obviously happy, and waves toward a few makeshift chairs. Immediately, several of the locals get up and vacate their places, leaving you places to sit."
You take your seats, and Carver takes a deep pull of something blue and foamy. "Welcome to Fest. The real Fest." He waves around with his mug. "These folks are the heart of this planet. Miners, smelters and labourers who slaved under the Empire for years, now free thanks to you."
He leans in a little. "The brass likes to make it out like they kicked the Empire off. And yeah, I guess they did. But it didn't start with them. It started int he mines. Miners, inspired by the declaration, broke out, threw down their overseers and held the mines. The leaders of the militias came in later and organized everything, and led the attacks that drove the Empire into their bunkers. But the guys and gals handling laser drills and rock blasters, they're the ones that started it."
-
Trax looked around the room. These people were far from being trained combatants yet they managed to ban together and kick the Imperials, who had many, many, trained soldiers and a significant advantage in firepower, off their planet. The former hunter couldn't help but be impressed. The man stood up, raised his glass, and spoke up loud enough to hopefully be heard over the crowd noise.
"We've heard a lot that it was the message broadcast by the Alliance that inspired all of you to stand up and fight back against the Imperials. And though that may be, it's your actions that will inspire the rest of the galaxy to do the same. You gave the Alliance's words real substance. You proved what the Empire wanted everyone to believe was impossible."
Trax raised his glass.
"To those that gave their lives." Trax paused for a few seconds of silence.
"And to all of you. For proving that the impossible is possible." Trax turned to the bartenders.
"The next round is on me."
[OOC: Sorry that took so long to post.]
-
Nim gave them all a smile. She truly wanted it to be genuine, to join in on their jubilee, but it was surprisingly difficult. Was she really so jaded already? The woman watched as they ate, drank, and made merry. The Empire was about to make sure it was the last time for all of them.
But then Trax, Maker bless him, surprisingly proposed a toast. It was completely all him and brilliant. And, in looking up to him, his face and gesture, she could swear it was genuine. It was a side that strangers rarely, if ever, got to see.
Her smile spread a little wider.. and genuine. Nim would wait a moment to say anything, if she did. Trax deserved this current one all to himself.
-
A cheer goes through the crowd. They were prepared to pour drinks into you all night long just for being who you were, but this gesture from Trax changes things somehow. The mood of the crowd is suddenly different. Not respectful, exactly. But somehow, it all becomes more welcoming and inclusive, as if through this simply act, you have somehow become one of them.
The bartenders start pouring drinks and people start lining up, speaking to each other boisterously. Several shake Trax's hand warmly. A couple of women in succession grab Trax and kiss him full on the lips, followed by a male doing the same thing.
Lieutenant Carver smiles and Trax, telling over the noise of the crowd. "You know how to make friends! You'd never find the brass down here. The militias are all too caught up in their rivalries to see what Fest really is." He raises his glass to Trax. "These people are the heart and soul of this frozen rock. This is probably the first time anyone who wasn't one of them ever recognized that."
-
Trax stood there momentarily stunned. The women's show of appreciation he didn't mind, but the man's...
Writing off as hopefully the actions of someone who's had a little too much to drink Trax turned to Carver. You should see me make enemies, Trax thought just before he lifted his glass and gave a nod to Carver.
The man took a sip and sat down.
"The rivalry," he began. "even if it weren't still pretty fresh, it'd be hard to warm everyone up to each other wouldn't it.
Did it start out completely political in nature, or do you know if there was something brewing before and the war made it something more?"
[OOC: In case it's not obvious, Trax is referring to the civil war.]
-
Carver shrugs. "That's more the brass, you know? Militia leadership - the big movers and shakers. The valleys are the only places hospitable enough for people to live, not just visit. And every valley had their own mine, run by their own company - dozens of them, in the begining. Those companies were in direct competition, so there was a lot of rivalry, yeah. If one company got strong enough, they'd gobble up the territory of another, and they'd have an advantage. That happened a few times, until there were only a few companies."
He takes a pull from his blue foamy drink. "The civil war was more about corporate officers and people getting rich off the mines. The militias grew out of that, financed and directed by the companies, and that's what led to the civil war. Later, the Empire reinforced those rivalries - punishing one valley for the actions of another - probably to try and stop the planet from uniting against them. But where I come from, people are just people. I think the miners wouldn't have any trouble gettin' along. But the miners, for all their heart, aren't leaders or strategists. The miners may not like the militia brass, but they kinda need them."
-
Trax took another sip of his drink. The man had a thought about a way to end the rivalry, assuming it was still financially motivated.
"Are those people still around now to get rich off the mines?"
-
He shakes his head. "Most that could, left when the Empire nationalized the mines. The few that stayed had managed to work their way into the Imperial power structure here, but most of those were killed or fled out when the militias kicked the Empire off planet. The militias started from the corps, and carry all those old prejudices, but the corporate structures that gave rise to the militias are long gone."
He takes a pull at his drink.
"Honestly, I think its just all people know now - more of a habit, you know? So they keep it going. We hate the others, and they hate us. Probably no one even remembers why or where it started. The Empire reinforcing those rivalries didn't help none."
-
"Hmph." Trax huffed out.
"There goes that idea." he mumbled before taking a bigger swig at his drink.
"Any chance that despite hostilities there's might be enough respect that if we can convince a few factions to play nice the others might see reason and decide to play nice as well..." Trax paused.
"Sorry," he began.
"Don't mean to be grilling you on this. Just tryin' to find an angle, any angle to help bring everyone together. The Imps may be gone right now, but they are coming back. And your people's chances of keeping them off long term improve dramatically if we can actually all work together."
-
He shrugs. "Like I said, people are people. Most of the miners aren't part of the militias, and weren't part of the corporate structures that gave rise to them. Miners needed to mine, so they didn't fight. The militias are on top of the structure, and they have the military power, so you're going to have to deal with them if you want to do anything here. I don't think there's a way to get the miners together without going through the militias."
-
Nim smirked a little at all the celebratory kisses Trax obtained. She knew him well enough to know at least one of them was probably unwanted but grinned even harder at that.
To the banter she sat back quietly, listening intently although appearing to be simply enjoying all of the company… and a lot of the ale.
But eventually all good things come to an end. Slowly the agent rose from the table and tapped her mug with a utensil to get everyone's attention. Trax had played the good guy well enough, now it was her turn to be the bad one. It probably helped that she was in uniform.
She cleared her throat and waited.
-
The crowd gradually grows silent. All eyes are on Nim, but the crowd is restless, anxious to return to their revelry.
-
Trax looked up at Nim.
I hope you're sure about this.
-
She threw back a healthy swig and gave Trax a smile and wide-eyed look that clearly said, “Nope!”
Turning back to the crowd Nim held up a hand. She was never one to be outdone, so why stop now? Now she just felt challenged. “Ladies, ladies. And gentlemen. And randy rascals among us,” she waggled a finger at the crowd with an amused smirk. “Watch and learn from a pro. This is how to properly kiss a man.”
Nim leaned down and lifted Trax’s chin with the waggly finger and planted a big, almost drunkenly smooch. She stood back up after sending him a coy wink.
“And this is how to properly kiss a woman.”
She leaned down to her other side and lifted Maris’s chin before planting a long, sultry kiss on the female's dark lips. It seemed to go on forever. It was long enough and distracting enough to spill her mug at the side.
Finally the woman stepped back, albeit a little wobbly, cocked her hip a little before seductively running her free hand through her very short hair and down her neck and side.
“And end it with a little hip action, leaving them wanting more..”
Nim grinned one hell of a devilish grin at her companions. She also remained standing, clearly commanding the room now, with something further to say.
-
The look of horror on Maris' face almost gives you pause, but you were committed by this point and you went ahead with it anyway. It is like kissing a stone statue - she does not react at all.
When you finish kissing Maris, the crowd erupts into cheers again, a little more bawdy this time, and Nim finds herself the focus of a good deal of attention as well. Nothing forced, but certainly her cup is never empty, and many several people ask for lessons or tips on their technique.
For a moment, there is a lull if you wanted to yell at Trax or vice versa, but it does not look like you are getting out of this bar any time soon.
You both also notice that, in the confusion, Maris seems to have gone somewhere, though neither of you actually saw her get up and leave.
-
Trax couldn't help the big smile on his face when Nim leaned in and kissed him. This is going to be a fun night, he thought.
And then Nim continued and she moved to kiss Maris. Seeing the look on the jedi's face, the smile quickly faded from his.
Don't do it...don't... Trax let out a heavy sigh, but his attention was quickly drawn back to Nim and the boisterous patrons that had been drawn to her from her display. The man chuckled and went to take a sip from his own drink when he noticed Maris was gone. Turning back to Nim, he saw immediately that she had noticed the jedi was missing as well.
The man knew getting out of the bar was going to be a challenge, but with more attention on Nim right now, it'd likely be easier for him than her.
"Is there a back way out?" he asked the lieutenant, as he stood up taking his drink with him.
I'll go check, he said to Nim before trying to make his way outside.
[OOC: Trax is hoping that by keeping his drink with him it'll look less like he's trying to leave as he tries to make his way out.]
-
Lieutenant Carver raises an eyebrow, as if he wondered why anyone would want to leave. But he nods and points a thumb over his left shoulder.
Trax, however, does not have much luck extracting himself from the situation in the cantina. The moment he gets to his feet, someone grabs him in a hug while someone else slaps him on his back, and numerous others crowd around him. If he's going out, he's going to have to force his way and / or make a scene.
Nim is faced with a similar situation. This crowd is ready to party, and the two of you have made yourselves the focus of that mood. It'll probably be a couple of hours of revelry before the crowd winds down enough for either of you to slip away.
In the meantime, your glasses are kept full, and there is no end of willing partners for dancing, or whatever else you might have in mind.
[PM sent to Nim.]
-
In a thick haze of alcohol it took Nim a good moment to realize that she had royally karked up with Maris. It was rash, impulsive, potentially stupid - or in this case incredibly stupid - and most of all it was old Nim. Loud, drunk, center of attention. Having a good time… with consequences. Seeing Maris’ empty chair just made the woman profoundly sad. It reminded her of the hole in her heart, the one Maris helped her work through.
Reluctantly she looked to Trax who valiantly tried to escape, but after scanning the crowd Nim had a very bad feeling about leaving the people alone now. She mouthed a curse and shook her head. She turned to the Lieutenant and leaned in close.
“I karked up and need to find my assistant. How do I leave without pissing everyone off? I'm afraid they'll also leave and I'll have ruined the fun."
-
Trax gave the lieutenant a 'that's why one of us needs to leave' look. The man looked around and took a big swig from his drink before wrapping each arm around the two nearest locals.
"Okay!" he yelled out as he started to do his best to guide the two a short ways away so that if all eyes were on him, the crowd would be less likely to see Nim slip out the back.
"I think it's time," he continued loudly as they maneuvered through the crowd. "That someone teaches me a song!" getting to what he hoped would be a good spot, he let go of the two locals he'd had in tow and climbed up on a chair.
"Someone in here has to have a song they can teach me!" he said, using his mug to point around the crowd.
-
In réponse to Nim's question, Lt. Carver just shrugs with a smile. Then Trax gets to his feet and asks someone to teach him a song. This is greeted with enthusiasm from the crowd, and a heated but good-natured debate starts over which song to start with.
For someone who generally solves problems with stubbornness and blasters, it was pretty subtle of Trax.
There's still some risk, but the crowd does seem mostly distracted. If Nim wanted to slip away, this is probably the best time.
Noting the door the Lieutenant had indicated earlier, Nim notes it is next to the 'fresher. Smiling good-naturedly to the obviously (to Nim) interested patrons that are paying attention to the Llordian, Nim heads for the fresher, but ducks through the door at the last moment.
As she heads down the short corridor, several new patrols enter, speaking excitedly about the Rebels in the bar. They ignore Nim and enter. The way is clear.
Outside, the frozen wind hits Nim like a slap, but it is also refreshing.
[Actions?]
-
OOC: I guess Trax will do what he can to keep the crowd happy and inside the bar. Any questions regarding Nim's location will likely get a response along the lines of 'If she's not here then she's missing the fun.' and then he'll direct the discussion to how to move between territories while bypassing militias. If anyone asks why, he'll jokingly say he wants to see if the miners there are as fun to drink with as the current crowd.
He will continue to talk up their accomplishment of beating the Imperials, but add that they have intel that they are on their way back and the Alliance could use their help to convince the faction leaders to work together. He'll also ask around to find out if anyone knows the one persecutor that Maris said was selling black market goods to the Empire.
If necessary, he'll continue to buy rounds, he's got about 1600 credits on the one cred stick.
-
Oh my nips it's cold she thought. Nim didn't like it, but wondered whether it was colder on this rock than it was on that deadly mountaintop of death where she had nothing to wear but cutesy fashion items while being chased by stormies. Ugh let's not think about that place. Like, ever.
She looked around, stumbling a little in the snow. Definitely would have been better for Trax to find Maris. Cuz of my stupidity and how the frak am I going to find her without screaming across the planet... Okay. Deep breath. What would Trax do?
Then she shivered.. not entirely sure if it was the thought or the cold...
Ohh Trax. Er.. wait. Tracks.. haha.. she'd have left those, right? And nobody else left this party.
And so she looked for tracks that relatively matched Maris' size and were clearly going away from the building.
-
Nim does find tracks in the snow. It seems the Force invisibility only goes so far. Nim starts to follow the tracks, but quickly finds herself thwarted. The tracks in the snow lead to a busy thoroughfare, and all trace of her elusive quarry vanishes in the press of people.
On an intuition, Nim decides to head for the ship. Maris has to return there at some point, right? Replaying the events in the makeshift cantina, she's not sure exactly what was going on. Maris is a messed up bundle of issues, so it's hard to know what exactly triggered her. As Nim's mind rolls over those events, as has become her habit since the new hardware was installed, she idly browses the local newsnet looking for patterns. It is usually a dead end, but by the time Nim has reached the ship, pattern recognition software in her encryption suite is triggering. Several incidents of public net traffic seems to have something else embedded. Intrigued, she does a little digging. The source of the signal is a subtle noise on typical Imperial signals, but this is not normal. Digging further, she manages to decrypt a small plaintext message. It looks like a comlink code and encryption key.
Curious, she punches in the settings and makes the call.
"Hello?" a tentative.voice answers. "Who is this, and where are you?"
-
"Hi. Ah, well, someone good enough to find this signal and call you while out for a pleasant stroll. Who might you be?"
OOC: Nim starts running a trace on the number as she speaks.
-
"No time! Look, I need to speak with someone with the rebels. I have information for them. Can you do that?"
The voice is badly distorted - you cannot even tell what gender or species. Your trace is currently on the sixth bounce. Whoever this is, he or she is covering his tracks very well.
-
Nim raised an eyebrow and made a mental command to start recording the conversation (if it isn't already).
"Ill see what I can do for ya."
-
"You need to hurry! There isn't much time! Call me when you reach them!"
-
When the call ended she hustled back off the ship and activated Buzz. "Hiya Buzz. I need to make a very secure call to someone I dunno and I really can't have them tracing me. Or like, knowing anything, really. Maybe even make it sound distant cuz' they might be on planet. I'd like to know what I can about them, but being secure is more important. Can you help me out?"
-
"<BU-ZZ = !Multibounce()... $working... $working... $status=ready // $HopCount=137>"
-
"Nice! Okay, do it up." Assuming the call goes through, she is rather blunt, more authorial: "To whom am I speaking? It is my understanding that you have information."
She blanched at being so.. formal.
-
"First, who is this?"
-
“I was told you said there was no time. In the rebellion names do not matter. We are rebels. Not fighting for fame but fighting for the greater-”
“-Oh just shut it already. Give me that. Right, I'm an agent, use the codename ‘Ballbuster’ if you really want one. Make this quick or I drop and you won't have the chance again.”
-
There is a pause.
"There is an Imperial fleet battlegroup in transit to Fest. They are due to arrive in six hours to begin the pacification of the Altiris Sector."
-
There is a pause.
"Well. That escalated quickly."
Another pause.
"Thank you. Anything else? Will they hit Fest first? What name can I use for you?"
Nim starts running back into the ship.
-
"Call me Wicker. I don't know what their target is. But I know they're due to arrive in six hours. There's a few worlds they could be hitting - Atrivis, Spefik, Fest or Mantooine. All have open rebellions, and the governors have called for aid."
-
"Got it. Would you be willing to contact me if and when you learn which planet they intend to attack first? How do you know about these plans?"
Nim waves over a tech.
-
You wave over one of the techs, and she walks over quickly. "Yes ma'am?"
On the comlink, there is a pause. You can almost hear the mental gears working as he considers how much to reveal. "I work in an Imperial facility nearby. We've been processing the resupply orders for the battlegroup."
-
"I see. If possible call me at "" if you have anything further. Maker be with you."
OOC: Giving him/her a secure number obviously.
Once the call is cut Nim turns directly to the tech, her pale blue eyes very intent. "This is critical," she turned sideways to Buzz, "--Cut voice scramble-- Right, I need you to find out how long it would take to get the shield off the ship. Then how long for the ship to ready to leave. And I need to know how long it would take to get to Mantooine. Repeat that back to me."
While the tech speaks Nim calls up Trax.
-
The tech looks serious.
Buzz responds in the background, "<BU-ZZ: $confirmed>"
"Ma'am. We can have the shield off the ship in thirty minutes. We can make the ship ready to depart while that is going on, so as soon as the loading bay doors are closed we can lift off. The jump to Mantooine," she lifts a datapad while she is speaking and types furiously, "would take about 45 hours."
While the tech is speaking, you activate your comlink. It takes a few moments for the other end to pick up, and you hear a blast of a rowdy bar scene.
-
“Gah!” she cringed at the party music and shoved the comm away towards the droid, grumbling. "That's how you get tinnitus (http://i.imgur.com/wMAs3r1.jpg). Buzz, take this and try to get Trax’s attention.”
Nim looked at the tech and blinked for a second, realizing everything she asked was already answered. “Brilliant. You're with me. Tell the captain we might be rolling out the payload and lifting off within the hour. It'll be one of the two or both. And get me a secure connection to Rebel command.”
Meanwhile she placed a pseudo-mental call to the local faction leaders, and started to rub her temple. Was she even properly sober yet?
Kark. I need Trax here. Kark! I need Maris here! Is she even on the ship?!
“KARK!” she shouted into the bay to no one in particular.
-
"Hello!" Trax yelled over the comm. "Who is this?" he waited a few seconds and couldn't hear anything. The man was about to end the call when he heard a familiar word from a familiar voice.
KARK!
"Nim?! What's wrong?"
-
Trax hears a bunch of unintelligible beeping on the comlink.
Meanwhile on the ship, Buzz beeps and hands the comlink to Nim.
-
Was no one answering their karkin’ comms tonight? Nim silently scolded the rebel faction leaders and kept trying the call with her implant. While jogging to the meeting room she whipped out a datapad and calculated all of the times the tech had given her so she knew roughly when each would happen as soon as the first depending on what the first was. Right now that was about the only way to keep it all logical in her head.
Buzz beeped and handed the other comm with his teeny little arms. “Trax!” she yelled before it was even in her hands. “Mate, change of plans. I need you back on the ship, or kicking down doors if I can’t get a hold of the leaders fast enough.”
-
"Wait...What?!" Trax yelled into the comm. "Hang on..."
The noise of the bar was all Nim could hear for a few seconds. Trax waded through the patrons to get to Carver.
"Hey, something's up. Nim needs to get a hold of the brass asap."
-
Lt. Carver frowns, then yells to be heard, "They'll probably still be arguing in the command centre. Failing they, they all have quarters in the headquarters, so we can get them easy enough."
-
“We need to talk to them, now.” he said to Carver before responding to Nim over the comm.
“I’ll round up the Command staff and get back to you.”
-
With Lt. Carver backing you up, you manage to extricate yourself from the still celebrating crowd, pleading "Official Rebellion Business, sorry." It is a few minutes walk back to the command centre, but you make it in two at a run. The guards on the door make to stop you, but Lt. Carver cows them, and you are back inside. A quick query from Carver, and you learn the command staff are still inside the command centre itself. Carver talks the two of you past the guards, and quickly Trax is standing before an irritated and tired looking group of Fest Militia leaders.
Enric Meday glares at Trax. "You have a lot of nerve barging in here. I said we would contact you when we were ready."
-
OOC: Is there any communication equipment in the room? I’d like to get Nim in a position to talk to and hear everyone.
-
You have a comlink. Otherwise, this looks pretty informal. It's not like there is a command console. But, everyone would be able to hear her if she speaks.
-
Trax ignored Meday for the moment as he called Nim. When the woman answered he spoke, first over the comm and then to Meday.
“Passing you to Meday.” He said before offering his comm to the man.
“You need to take this.”
-
"My apologies for the disruption, but there's been a change in plans."
Nim closed the door to whatever room she was in.
"I received information from an unverified source that the Imperial battlefleet will be here in.." She looked at her wristcomp for a second although it didn't really matter. "Less than six hours."
(Ooc: not sure on the technical name of the fleet, also don't want to give the full name in case it's something very specific and can be traced)
-
On the comlink, there is silence. In the command centre, the leaders of the militia are all looking at each other.
Valaera Streng purses her lips. "We knew this would happen eventually."
Enric Meday sighs, and Nim can hear him say away from the comlink, "I know. We thought we'd have more time."
Raddi Dulius says, "If we had the shield we could protect the city..."
Enric Meday says, in an irritated voice that Nim can hear, "I know!"
Alys Madine says, "Like I said, we could hold up in the mines. But if they bombard the mountain they'll seal us in. We could survive maybe a week in there, but that's it."
Enric Meday says, "I know!!"
Streng then says, "Well, if you know everything, then it's time for a decision, Enric. There's only one way forward that doesn't get thousands of people killed."
There is silence before Meday says again, in a defeated voice. "I know." He lifts the comlink. "Ms. Naja, it appears we have little choice. How long would you need to set up the shield? And what would you need from us."
Around the command centre, the others move into action, heading to communications consoles and other terminals in the room, leaving only Valaera Streng at the table. Trax can hear them issuing commands and putting plans in motion. From what Trax can gather, it sounds like they are preparing to defend against a ground assault.
-
“A couple of hours to set up the shield. We have techs, from you I need security. Once it’s unloaded from the ship we have to high tail it to the next planet and hope we make it in time.”
Nim paused, considering her words carefully. “We need your courage and determination. There are a dozen some other planets in open rebellion spurred by you. Even more will rally. So we cannot, must not allow the Imperials to take Fest back. For yourselves and for others that look to you now.
“You need to work with everyone to set aside the rivalries. Reach out to the other factions somehow. Get in touch with the miners. We can buy more time for the Alliance to send supplies and weapons by working together.”
Nim knew it wasn’t the most inspiring words ever, but Enric seemed to be more of the pragmatic sort anyway. She did, however, know this might be their very last communication.
“Enric. Is there anything you need from me?”
-
There is a pause on the comlink. In the conferene room, Trax sees Meday look from one to the other of his leaders.
"No. You get that shield and and running, and we'll prepare for ground assault."
-
"Will do. Good luck."
She waited for Trax to come back on the call.
-
Trax waited for his comm to be returned.
"What's the plan?" he asked Nim.
-
"Soon as the package is out the door, we gotta jet. So I need you back on the ship. ...and I haven't found my assistant yet, I haven't had time."
-
Trax let out an involuntary sigh as he left the command room.
"How much time do I have?"
-
"Tracked her more than halfway to the ship so she might be here. We're leaving within the hour."
-
"Alright, I'll see about returning our speeder on the way back. If you don't find her on board, let me know."
-
"Will do."
Nim cut the call and turned to the tech. "Can you turn on the ship intercom? There's too many damned buttons."
-
She smothers a smile and hits a couple of controls on the console. "You're live."
-
Let's hope this works.. Nim silently prayed. There wasn't a whole lot of time for more elaborate measures.
"Vash'aja to the Communications Bay. Urgent. Vash'aja to the Communications Bay."
The message was serious, no usual playfulness in the voice. It was very unlike the Lorrdian.
-
About a dozen seconds pass before you see Maris appear in the doorway.
"What's going on, Nim?"
-
Nim spun to face Maris with a look of great relief. "They've agreed to join," she replied, waving her inside, though her tone suggested there was more to that. She turned back to the tech. "Have them roll out the shield and get started installing right away. They will need our techs but want to be independent of them as soon as possible. If we leave right away we will have to leave them behind regardless."
And then back to Maris.
"Right, so I found something buried and heavily encrypted on the local net that led me to someone that claimed to know the battlegroup will be here in six hours. Less than six now. It's unverified, untraceable but could be totally legit. I didn't want to chance it so I let the faction leaders know and I'm waiting on a call to HQ. I expect to leave within the hour for our next destination."
-
Maris raises an eyebrow. "You're telling me you're changing the whole plan, and leaving the planet, based on what amounts to a rumour? Where are we going, and what are we going to do when we get there?"
-
"Correct," she replied without hesitation. "The plan hasn't changed, just the timing. We're doing the same thing we were tasked with, delivering another shield and attempting to persuade another planet to join."
"Best case scenario, the information is wrong and we got both planets to protect themselves and join, albeit earlier than expected. Worst case scenario, the information is right, and we're stuck here sitting in this bay with an unused shield, unable to install it or leave the planet because an entire battlegroup has us blocked in and raining stormies and Mantooine then has no protection and probably no clue that the battlegroup is arriving. So for all of our sakes I pray it's bogus."
-
Maris shakes her head. "Nim, there's plenty more 'worst-case scenarios' I can think of. There's still an Imperial presence on the planet, and you can bet they've been monitoring the situation. What if this is all an Imperial ploy to discredit you, or to get you off planet so they can remove you with a quick fighter strike?
"And let's not forget that if your information is wrong, you're gonna look like an idiot to the people you just convinced to sign up. Sure, they were probably gonna do it anyway, but now they'll resent having been manipulated. And running to Mantooine screaming about how the sky is about to fall may be a little less persuasive than you think. Mantooine is in better shape than Fest, they're a lot more organized and the resistance there is much broader, and they don't have an Imperial bunker in their midst. They're going to be a lot more skeptical about unverified reports. You need something to back up your claims, or they might just think you are full of osik and dig in."
She sighs, and leans against the console as she crosses her arms. "Look, I've been running a long time, Nim. I learned to trust my gut. And right now, my gut is telling me going to Mantooine right now is the wrong move." She shrugs. "But its your show. You saw we move, we move. But you may want more than rumour and innuendo to show the Mantooine rebels."
She pauses, and looks a little less sure of herself.
"Also, to be pragmatic, a fleet showing up here would be a great catalyst to unit the militias on Fest. We'd need someone like you to pull that off, though, and you can't do that from Mantooine. So, where do you think you can do the most good?"
-
"I don't know," she replied to the very long rebuttal with a dejected shoulder shrug. "I don't have answers. I am hoping HC will have something of value to add. All I know is we were to go to Mantooine anyway. We would just be early."
-
[Taking a couple of liberties.]
She bares the teeth on the left side of her mouth - an objectively scary image, but the Zabrak equivalent of a shrug.
"It's your mission. I'm just here to keep you alive, and help how I can."
The tech at Nim's side gentle clears her throat.
"Orders, Agent Naja?"
About this time, Trax comes up the boarding ramp, and finds Nim, Maris, and one of the support staff in the Comms room.
-
The tech's words were still odd to her ears. But at least that answer was known. "Roll out and install the shield." Nim ever so slightly nodded to Trax to acknowledge his presence. It needn't be anything more formal, especially for a Lorrdian to express. "And I guess we wait for the call to connect. How much longer do you think?"
-
"Just a couple of minutes, ma'am."
-
Trax glanced only briefly at Maris, feeling oddly relieved she was on board, before he looked at Nim.
“What’s up with the hasty departure?”
-
Nim relayed the new information as she had to Maris, knowing she'd have to do so again for a fourth time in a few minutes.
-
[OOC: Trax can take as IC knowledge the information Nim told to Maris, from here: http://karvis.altarka.org/index.php?topic=372.msg11741#msg11741 and http://karvis.altarka.org/index.php?topic=372.msg11753#msg11753 ]
-
Trax thought about the information Nim and just relayed to him. An unconfirmed Imperial source...it could be a trap of some kind but surely the Imperials still had locals that were loyal to them. If they wanted them dead they could attack them on the ground, or just wait until the assault begins. Even with a shield to take cover from an orbital bombardment, the were going to be a hell of a lot of imperial troops on the ground and if Nim was their target they'd be in for a very difficult fight for survival. And getting out of the system wouldn't be any easier at that point.
"A sound decision," he said agreeing with Nim's decision to leave for Mantooine. "If the target is Fest, we risk getting pinned down here for possibly weeks. And if the target is Mantooine, they need to at least be made aware of the possibility. The intel matches Alliance intel, that a response to the successful liberation in this sector is on the way, it's just a lot sooner than anticipated. That has to lend some credibility to the warning.
I just might have asked for a fighter escort. Not that I doubt the skills of our pilot but better safe than dead."
-
Maris looks at Trax with a exasperated expression, and throws her hands up.
Before anyone can respond, your tech interrupts.
"General Vernan on the comm."
Nim moves to the console.
"Agent Naga. I understand there has been a complication?"
-
Nim nearly raised an eyebrow at the General's mispronunciation of her name but put it aside for the moment. She actually stiffened a little bit, almost at attention at the ‘presence’ of the superior officer even though it was just an audio of him. Old habits? she mused.
"Sir, that is.. one way to put it." The woman took a deep breath before launching into the explanation, describing the hidden, mysterious message and the entire call she had with the tipster.
"I did relay this information to the lead Fest faction as unverified and, albeit reluctantly, they agreed to sign on regardless. I believe they would have eventually, but they were worried about a sudden invasion.. as are we. I couldn’t trace the call but there is only one facility in the entire system capable of supplying the battlegroup, and it is the orbital station above our heads.”
-
There is quiet on the line a moment, and you hear some background noise like a shuffling of datapads.
"We're spread thin, Agent. We don't have enough naval assets close enough to drive off a battlegroup - it would take us a week to put that together, and every ship we have over six sectors, assuming leadership would even approve it. No ground reinforcements either - the earliest I could put any boots on the ground in that sector is a week. But I can probably have three or four more shields to Fest in 24 hours. We have a couple of blockade runners not far from you. If you can confirm this source, or get more information, we might be able to delay this attack through other means."
-
"I think by the time any of us were to sneak aboard the station and glean anything useful it'll be too late and not worth the risk." Nim looked to her companions as she spoke, her hand gesture encouraging them to speak if they had any thoughts. "I realize this isn't a foolproof connection but is there anything you can tell us on how you'd delay them? How much time would you need for it? We haven't been to Mantooine yet, they likely don't even know the original info. The fleet will gather here but we don't know where they will strike first. They could bypass Fest entirely."
-
"If they're resupplying at Fest, that's unlikely to be their target. If we have details, corroborating information, we might be able to tie up the mission in the senate, or hamper them in other ways politically."
Maris has nothing to add, she's just leaning back against the console with her arms crossed watching.
-
OOC: Ken I don't know if you want to add or ask anything, but she gestured in case you did. I'm at a loss so anything you've got is welcome :P
-
OOC: We should ask what qualifies as corroborating information.
Nim's 'source' has corroborated as much information as the Alliance already had, we knew a strike was coming, we didn't know exactly when (we have a smaller window now thanks to the source), and we still don't know where they're going to strike, however given they'll most likely be resupplying at Fest, and based on what Vernan thinks, that makes Fest an unlikely target.
I'm guessing they need to know for certain what the target is before they can try to tie it up politically?
-
[OOC: If they're going to the Senate, they'll need more than a rebel analyst's projections and an uncorroborated anonymous leak. Nim might be able to corroborate the information through her network.]
-
"Nim's source has corroborated everything we had," Trax began.
"And we've got a smaller time window now too. But I'm guessing you're looking for something a little more concrete." he finished, directing that part of what he was saying to the General on the comm.
"Nim, think your network might be able to turn something up in a timely fasion?"
-
"I sure as frak hope so. But I don't know what we'll churn up all the way out here. I'll need some time... which isn't on our side. I can't research in hyperspace so add at least an hour. Then it takes four hours to get to Mantooine and another 6 to set up a shield once they accept, if they accept. Let's say the fleet is due to arrive in six hours, restock taking an hour minimum, four to arrive if going to Mantooine. That's 11 hours to our unlikely 11."
"Sir, what are your thoughts on that? If we are still here when/if they arrive, I doubt we will make it out without being chased. If we don't leave, any message sent to Mantooine or the other planets will probably fall on deaf ears."
-
General Vernan is quiet a moment. "It seems likely that their target will be Mantooine, but from a reinforcement perspective, Mantooine makes for a soft target. That's likely why the Empire picked it. They are larger, more populated, and harder to defend. Fest lends itself better to digging in and holding on, and we might be able to hold the planet if the Empire turns around and comes back. Focus your efforts own Fest, Agent. Try to warn Mantooine if you can, but there will be little they can do against a battlegroup, and we do not have resources to successfully reinforce them on the timelines you are working under. Consolidate Fest, and work your source. If your source is highly placed enough to give us what they have already, they should be able to give us a good deal more."
-
“What about the shield?” Trax asked no one in particular.
“Shouldn’t someone at least make an attempt to get it to them?”
-
Nim stared at the console in dismay. She knew what the General's reply would be. With a heavy heart she asked, "With their permission, do I have yours to install the second shield on Fest."
-
The General ignored Trax.
"So authorized." He pauses. "Vernan out."
The line goes dead.
[OOC: The mispronunciation was intentional on my part, though not the general's. ]
-
"Alright," Trax began after the line went dead.
Though his facial expression was neutral, from his body language the woman could tell he was surprised the Alliance was willing to let Mantooine get wiped out without even trying to get the shield to them.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked Nim.
-
The tech Nim had been dealing with stands therw looking at Nim as well. "What are your orders, Agent Naja?"
Nim can pick up a certain tension in the analyst, and the stress she places on the word "your" was subtle, but there. She's prepared to follow Nim's orders.
-
Nim ran an agitated hand through her short hair. She was clearly stressed and frustrated. She turned and looked at the trio before her, including Maris in the back. Her lips tightly formed into a crisp line and her voice was clearly angrily resigned.
“We stay. Inform the Captain we will likely roll out the second shield right after first install.” She slightly nodded to the tech. “Buzz, get Meday on the line.”
“The best I can do for Mantooine is to get the proof the General wants. I’ll need time. Which frees you two to do what you can to unite the other Fest people. Unless you have other ideas.”
Then she suddenly remembered something and cringed. "Oh balls. We left that drunken crowd back there. I had a bad feeling if we leave they might take the party to the streets.. with pitchforks and torches. You might want to check on that and sober them up..."
The woman started patting her jacket pockets. “Need a karkin’ smoke,” she bitterly muttered.
-
"Or get them so drunk they can't move or they pass out." Trax replied to Nim voicing the likely course of action he'd take over trying so sober the crowd up.
He turned to Maris.
"You going to hang out and watch her back?" he said to the jedi, his words were as much of a question as to her plans as they were a request from him to remain and make sure Nim was protected.
-
Maris nods. "Yeah."
-
Trax gave Maris a nod of thanks before turning back to Nim.
"Alright, I'll start at the cantina to keep the rowdies under control and go from there. Any parting advice?"
-
"Make sure the staff gets paid and tipped. I'll reimburse you. I may be here or with the leaders, if we move I'll let you know. And honestly? You were doing just fine.. better than fine. If anyone can unite and rally the folks of Fest I think it's going to be you."
-
Trax wasn't quite sure entertaining a bunch of drunk miners was the same as rallying military factions, but maybe...if you got them drunk enough.
"That'll be one hell of a bar tab." Trax quipped before turning to leave the ship.
[OOC: Trax returned the speeder, would he be able to use his jetpack to fly back with minimal difficulty?]
-
[OOC: It is pretty windy and snowing, so the speeder is likely a better bet.]
Trax departs, and the tech leaves the coms room as well, and Nim is left alone with Maris. The Zabrak is leading sideways against the bulkhead by the door.
There is a beep from Buzz, and his holoemitter activates. You see Meday's face hovering in the air before Buzz.
"Agent Naja."
-
Nim was about to address Maris but Buzz apparently had heard and fulfilled his orders. She nearly forgot about the call.
"Change of plans, we are staying regardless of which timeline is correct. Which means I have a second shield for you we can install after the current one if you wish. We have the techs for it as well."
-
The face holds for a moment, then nods. "We'll adjust our plans accordingly. There's a few places that could use it, but they won't believe it coming from us. We'll keep working on our end, but you might want to see what you can do. They might take it better from an Alliance representative. Your declaration was what motivated all this, after all. We'll keep working on plans for the ground assault, and expect to see your techs soon."
-
OOC: Oh, duh. If the first is out of the bay I guess the second can roll out anytime.
"Understood. I'll need some information on them so we at least know what, where, or who we're looking at approaching. At the moment I am attempting to have HC send assistance in some manner but first I need to get them more concrete data on the when and where the invasion will take place. I have intel analysts with me but if your people have anyone remotely useful in that regard I'll gladly take them."
OOC: Having seen their HQ setup, are we better served doing the research on the ship?
-
[OOC: Yeah, though an encrypted datalink would help coordinate.]
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OOC: And where can we find that?
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[OOC: Just need to set it up. One of the techs can do it, or Nim could use Buzz.]
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OOC: Not sure if Meday is replying. I don't have anything else for him. I forgot we don't need to wait for the first shield so if I can't change my order to roll out the second now, I'll contact that tech.
-
Meday says, "Sending you a data packet now. It's a sanitized intelligence report.
Your tech looks over. "Receiving a data packet, Agent."
Meday says, "That should get you enough to make a call, at least."
Data scrawls over a nearby screen. Senior members (varying numbers) of the various militias. Estimates of strength, their locations, and some comlink codes to reach them.
-
"This is good, thank you. Any preferences, suggestions?"
-
"Honestly, we're as like to spit in each other's eye as say hello. But you can tell them, from me, we liberated a bunch of supplies from an Imperial storehouse. If they join up with you, I'll..." there is a long pause, and you hear indistinct talking in the background.
He continues, sounding reluctant. "I'll share our supplies, no strings attached. They know the stockpile I mean. It's enough to get us through a few months worth of blockade if need be. But only if they sign on with you."
He hesitates. "I'm puttin' it all on the table, Agent. We have the supplies and the means to distribute them. But only if they sign on. Carrot and stick. What you do with that is up to you."
-
"I understand," she nodded with the seriousness he warranted. "Carrot and stick. Wish me luck."
When the call was cut Nim looked over the data, scanning into memory the names and numbers. She half turned to Maris.
"The smaller militias are probably more likely to accept a deal. And even more likely if bigger ones sign on. But not the other way around, unless we got a bunch of the small fish together first. Think it makes sense to start there?"
-
Maris sucks her teeth for a moment. "Bang for effort, it's probably better to start big and go small. Realistically, the smaller militias are not going to help hold off the Empire much. But if you get two or three militias together, you've got the makings of a pretty solid army. With that kind of manpower, we might be able to make it too expensive for the Empire to try and take back. Take up the General on his offer of shields, and you've got a pretty good place to consolidate from."
-
"True, the smaller militias alone will not help much. But they are easier targets to convince, and enough of them will help bolster what we have to offer the bigger ones alongside the cache and the shields. We know the big ones are going to be a pain in the shebs, with more dissenting voices, concessions, supply share. Less likely to want to work with the other factions, more likely to pull blasters on the others."
"Actually that might help us too. We convince enough of the less fortunate and we'll have backup in case one decides they'd sooner shoot than join. I'd rather not take plasma to the face again today."
-
"Kinda what I was thinking. If you put effort into the big ones, you may get smaller ones just by gravity. But getting smaller ones will not help with the big ones."
She stands up. "So, where do we start?"
The analyst pipes up. "This is good data - we don't have anything like this. But at first glance, Rhia Linki would be a good place to start. She has strong ground forces - they defeated the local garrison that was at battalion strength , supported and a company of Stormtroopers. Unlike Meday's group which was bloody urban warfare, her battle was much more of a straight-up slugfest. She's got hardened troops, and we're going to need that if we're going to hold the planet. According to this, there was a munitions depot in her territory that they plundered, and used that to arm their militia. That gear will be handy."
Still flipping through the data, she continues. "Another option is Derrek Wen's group. According to Meday's intelligence, they were driven into a mind. There, they retrofitted excavation exoskeletons for combat, and shattered the Imperial siege. Again, those would be good assets to have."
She looks up. "I'll go through the data in a little more detail, but those sound like good places to start. I don't have contact information, and with the Imperials preparing for operations in the sector, we may want to physically relocate to establish contact."
-
Meanwhile, Trax returns to the informal cantina. The party Trax started appears to still be going strong, though it is winding down. A few people are wandering away from the bombed-out building, and it does seem to be a potential mob scene. You walk in, and find the area has only half the crowd it did before. Still, your entry elicits a loud cheer from the crowd.
One of them comes up and says, expansively, "Welcome back!" He then puts a full mug of something green and foamy into your hand.
-
Trax smiled before taking a swig from the drink.
"Happy to be back.
What's with them?" he asked, indicating those that were wandering away. "Is there an after party I missed an invite too or something?"
-
"Alright. Meday's cache will be less useful to Rhia if they plundered munitions already, so let's check out the mines first. Can you set up coords and transport? We also might pick up Trax on the way. Oh and see how the installs are going."
(Ooc still planning on a priv chat with Maris)
-
The tech nods. "I'll go check the status of the unloading."
Nim is left along in the communications bay with Maris.
-
Nim watched the door close, waited a few seconds, and then moved closer to the zabrak so they weren't talking across the room. The way out the door was clear, and nothing from the Lorrdian indicated she would intrude if Maris wished to use it.
She found it difficult, truly difficult to look her in the eyes, but forced herself to. She needed her to know she wasn't just speaking empty words. Nim did, however, look very awkward at using them.
"I am greatly sorry.. for my actions earlier."
She paused, unconsciously scratching her arm and shifting her weight to the other foot. She really couldn't just leave it at that statement,it was far too heinous.
"I.. no, no there is no excuse for it. Being drunk doesn't give anyone the right to hurt someone. I did not consider your feelings nor the danger it could put you in. I was reckless and.. a pervert. I hate the word, but I did it, and I'll own it. You deserve better, and I am sorry."
-
She steps back a bit, just to get more personal space. She's obviously a little uncomfortable.
She says hesitantly, "Ok, looks like we're having this conversation. There's .. a couple of things you should know."
She starts to pace, looking a little agitated. "Look, there's a couple of things going on. First... I'm not..." She paces some more. "I've never..." More pacing.
Finally she stops and turns to you. "Look, I'm just not like that. I've never done... never wanted to do that sort of thing." She starts pacing again. "Maybe being on my own for so long broke me, damaged me in some way, I don't know. Probably. I mean how could it not, right? At the age when other people were getting hormones and having fantasies and sneaking smutty holo-novels, I was living hand-to-mouth, hiding for my life, and I'd already killed a dozen people who were trying to kill me."
She stops then, and turns to you. "It's not a gender thing. And I'm not against comfort and touching, sometimes. I mean, I used to snuggle a bull rancor at night, and master Shaak-Ti and I would share a bed when it was cold - just not in that way. It's good and I like it, if I can trust the one I'm cuddling with. I'm just not into... I've just don't have those urges or desires."
She shrugs. "When someone expresses those desires towards me, honestly, it freaks me out a little. I don't know what you're feeling, what you want. I mean, I know mechanically, but I just don't feel whatever it is you feel."
She paces some more. "I know I probably sent mixed signals, and I'm sorry if I did. I've learned to use those desires in others to help me survive. People often treat someone who behaves in an alluring way differently. They let their guard down, and sometimes it gives me an edge. Some bounty hunters are less likely to kill you outright if they think they might have some fun with you first, so flirting is a defence mechanism for me."
Turning back to you, she sighs. "But that's never been something I've sought out or wanted. It's a tool I use sometimes to help me survive, but it's never been something I've ever been interested in."
She pauses a moment, gathering her thoughts. "So you looked at me with that look in your eyes, planted a big kiss on me and turned a big bright spotlight on me in a crowded room. That hit a couple of nerves for me. The sex thing, yeah, which made me uncomfortable. But also, for most of my life, being in the spotlight meant I would have to kill or be killed. The combination of the two really freaked me out. I didn't handle it well, panicked, and ran away. Sorry for that."
She sighs. "But for the other stuff... you've been flirty here and there, and I didn't shut it down for reasons that seemed good at the time. I should have said something sooner, before all this happened tonight. I'm not wired that way. I hope you understand."
-
[OOC: Made a typo in my last post for you.
A few people are wandering away from the bombed-out building, and it does seem to be a potential mob scene.
That should have read, "... does not seem to be a potential mob scene."
Sorry for the confusion.]
Trax smiled before taking a swig from the drink.
"Happy to be back.
What's with them?" he asked, indicating those that were wandering away. "Is there an after party I missed an invite too or something?"
"Naw, just party-poopers. Tired or something, and they have shifts in the morning or some drek like that. But this is the place to be, with a real-live hero of the Rebellion!" He raises his voice with that last clause, and the small makeshift cantina breaks out in cheers.
-
Trax should have argued, at least a little, on the point of being called a hero but seeing as he wanted some information he thought it best to let them think and say what they wanted.
"What did you think of that scene in front of the capitol building earlier?" he asked, moving to take a seat at the table where the man had gotten up from to greet him.
-
Nim nodded to Maris' comment of "looks like we're having this conversation." Any other time it would have been funny, but she just wasn't feeling funny at the moment.
"No need to be sorry. It was me, all me." She rubbed her head absently, still uncomfortable with the subject. "You didn't send mixed signals. You didn't send any signals. At the risk of sounding even more perv, I've wanted to make a move for a long time, because you're kandosii, amazeballs, cute, intelligent, and really hawt all at the same time. But I didn't do it for a bunch of reasons, being coward one of them, concerned on how it'd affect Trax, how it'd affect all three of us, and like, the other night when we napped, I worried I'd be taking advantage of you when you were in the rough, and I'd end up being a total pervert. So I didn't do it, and instead like an idiot I got drunk for the first time since rebooting and it happened anyway."
"I've since learned that I can no longer hold my liquor, and some old habits die really hard. But um.. yeah. You're wired differently - but only compared to me. You're not abnormal. There's no mandate for you to like, have to feel anything. My wires are a product of.. a lot of good and bad things. Some I wanted, some I didn't. Tonight was just nice because it felt like the old days, with Allie and I and I just felt.. free. But there are consequences to freedom without responsibility, and someone has to pay them. You deserve better and I'm really, really sorry."
-
She seems surprised by your reaction. She blinks a couple of times, as if processing.
She shrugs. "No harm, no foul. Put it down to both of us putting out the wrong signals."
She is quiet a moment, then tentatively asks, "So, are we... good?"
-
Nim nodded, albeit sheepishly.
[If install operations are going well she will call Trax to update]
-
"What did you think of that scene in front of the capitol building earlier?" he asked, moving to take a seat at the table where the man had gotten up from to greet him.
He frowns as he sits down to join you, while the others at the table listen. "I dunno. It ain't easy. I got feelings on both sides, I guess. People gotta survive right? And some of them survived by working with or for the imps. But one of those women on the steps earlier? Her husband died in a mine accident. She just shacked up with an Imperial so her kid could eat. Others? They worked hard. Seemed to enjoy it. They sold people out. People died because others snitched. Where do you draw the line? Personally, I think let the past stay in the past. The Imps are gone, let it be buried. But I can understand them who want revenge for the pain some people helped the Imps cause, ya know? There's a lot of people who think making collaborators pay with somehow fill the hole they got inside 'em. Some of those who were in the resistance all those years hate anyone who gave anything to the Imps, even shopkeepers who sold them stuff. They had friends die resisting the Empire. Are they wrong to hate anyone who made it easier for that to happen? Where do you draw the line? Life in the mines was hard, and often short."
-
As the man spoke Trax tried to figure out where exactly he stood on the matter. He wasn't sure he'd be able to let the past die like that but he also understood that sometimes people had to do whatever they could to survive.
"What is it that you guys mine for anyway?"
-
He shrugs. "A bunch of stuff. Fest is loaded with minerals. But the big thing that got the Empire excited was Phrik deposits. The nationalized those, and basically enslaved everyone working them."
Trax would know that Phrik is a very durable, but extremely difficult to work with metal. the black market says you can make lightsabre-resistant alloys with it, but it is too difficult to work with in pure form to make manufacturing anything with it practical.
Strategically, this could be an important resource for the Rebellion.
-
Well, that explains the Imperial presence. He wondered if they were doing testing with Phrik in the bunker but figured it wasn't a question worth asking this crowd.
"Those guys looking to do the executions on the stairs, any of them miners?"
-
He nods. "One was, I think. The others, not that I ever saw. Lots of mining though - maybe I just never saw them."
-
"Which one? Was he here?
Wouldn't mind hearing his story if he's up for sharing it."
-
"Nah, haven't seen him since that mob outside the headquarters. He's more of a follower than a leader though. Lots of anger, nothing to direct it at. And that ass Jacocha riling everyone up. I had reason to be angry, and I feel for him, but he was angry at everything."
-
"Was he the angry sort even before the Imps touched down?"
-
"Nah. Time in prison did that. The imps broke a lot of people, and different people break in different ways."
-
"What about the other guy, the follower? His come from being broke by the Imps as well?"
-
He shrugs. "Lots of stories out there, man. Some people, they join the mobs because they think it might be protected them. Like, if they show they persecuted others, people might not believe or remember that they were doing the same things they are accusing others of."
-
Trax let out something of a sign.
"Directing that anger towards something productive won't be easy." The man paused.
"Know where I can find any of them?"
-
"Fear as much as anger, you know? There's a few around. You, ah, planning on doing anything rash?"
-
“I try to stay away from taking action without at least some planning.” the man replied with a smirk on his face. He took a sip from his drink before returning to a more serious tone.
“I’d like to check them out, see if any are willing to talk or are trying to connect with someone else who might be prone to Jacocha’s means of expressing himself.”
-
He looks you over. "Okay. Guy's name is Sogan. Sogan Baric. He lives in a tenement a few blocks away - 1018 Ricart Avenue. He should be in the directory."
As the gentleman finished speaking, Trax's comnlink beeps.
-
Trax gave the man a nod and started to thank him when his comm went off.
"Trax here." he said, answering the comm.
-
"Hey," said Nim, "we're heading to one of the factions. Wanna go?"
-
"Is there really any question?" Trax began.
"I'll be on my way in a few minutes."
-
Trax makes his way back to the spaceport to find a large piece of equipment has been offloaded, and is being swarmed by some of the techs you brought along. They are rapidly moving it away from the ship. By the sound of things, the ship has powered up the converters and seems to be preparing for liftoff.
Trax walks up the boarding ramp and sees Nim speaking to one of the crew. The crewman salutes and departs. As Trax comes up, the first officer walks up. "Agent Naja, the cargo has been offloaded, and we have a flight plan. We can depart when you are ready."
-
"Where are we headed?" Trax asked when he reached the top of the ramp.
-
"I believe we are ready," she replied to the officer with a nod to Trax, indicating they had been waiting for him. Nim smiled to the former hunter. "We're goin' minin'."
-
The first officer nods and heads to the bridge.
-
Trax had hoped they were going to disobey orders and head to Mantooine. Were it not for Nim, he would probably already be on his way there.
“Going to see if we can dig up some allies?” The man quipped.
-
She smirked and started walking further inside. "You made such a good impression in the cantina I'm hoping it flows over to the faction. Anyway we received some useful intel and decided the mines would be a good start since they could use Meday's cache the most."
OOC: Nim will tell him everything they received, I think it starts at this (http://karvis.altarka.org/index.php?topic=372.msg11990#msg11990)post.
-
"Okay, but if you expect me to take a lead roll, better bring a keg or dozen.
Might not be a bad idea regardless."
[OOC: If the SW universe doesn't have kegs then let me know and I'll modify the post.]
-
[OOC: Sure, kegs exist. They tend to be high-tech, self-tapping kegs with a built in dispenser and volume tracking, but they still count as kegs. :) ]
The manoeuvre alert sounds, and everyone straps in. As mission commander, Nim heads to the bridge. In short order, the ship takes off into a night shrouded in blowing snow. You have an hour long flight, so Nim takes that time t go over the, rather thorough briefing provided by her analyst.
You are heading to Prura Station, under the control of the Prura Thon militia under the command of Derek Wren. Wren was a mining foreman who ostensibly worked for the Empire, but spent a lot of time in confinement because he resisted the more egregious actions of the Empire. We are clearly on the workers' side. He is an oddity on Fest in that he was not a local. He was originally brought in by the Empire to expand the Prura-Cresh mine, and stayed on as a supervisor. There were three mines here - Prura Aurek, Prura-Besh and the newest one, Prura-Cresh.
Based on somewhat questionable intelligence, when the uprising first broke out, the Prura Thon militia suffered heavily casualties against two companies of Imperial Infantry. They were forced to retreat to the mines, loosing close to 50% of their forces in that operation. Secured inside the mine, the Empire prepared to starve them out. The militia had no weapons and no supplies. But what they did have was mining lasers. According to unconfirmed reports, Derek Wren modified the mining lasers for combat, and mounted them on industrial exoskeletons. Over the course of three days, with his forces getting hungry, he built enough of these personal mechs to finally challenge the Empire. It was a route, and the Prura Thon militia wiped out the Empire. Uncorroborated reports say that no Imperials survived to evacuate, and the local garrison commander's shuttle was brought down by a shot from Derek Wren's own exoskeleton.
The analyst adds some footnotes that the mining lasers are unlikely to be effective weapons. Even modified and focused, they would not have the range to be very effective. Yet the Prura Thon militia managed to wrest control of the station from two companies of Imperial Army regulars, so they must have had some combination of tactics, strategy and equipment that allowed them to do it.
After about an hour flight time, Nim can see lights in the distance, and the ship drops down over a ridge and into the Prura Thon Valley. Your captain establishes contact, and you are granted permission to land. As you approach, the whole site looks very industrial, with scaffolding and industrial lighting everywhere. There are blocks or low buildings that likely serve as barracks for the workers, but this was definitely not a city. This was a work site.
The ship lands and the flight crew starts to secure from flight operations, and Trax, Nim and Maris meet at the boarding ramp. Prura is higher elevation, and the outside temperature shows much colder than your last stop. You open the airlock and descend the boarding ramp to find a starkly lit, utilitarian docking bay. Heavy snow, like small balls of ice, are driving by a strong wind, and that wind has a bite to it like a kath hound. Your last stop, the air hurt your face. Here, you been a deep, burning pain in deep your chests just from breathing.
The ambient light changes slightly, and your attention is drawn in the direction of a nearby building. Three figures, in shadow due to back-lighting from the building they are emerging from, come out a door and walk towards you. Two of them spread out a little and hang back - you can all clearly see weapons held in a relaxed but ready position. Theya ll appear a little formless due to the heavy clothing they are wearing.
The heavily clothed figure in the centre continues forward. He is wearing a cold-weather parka with the hood up, a hat, and a scarf covers his face. He also wears goggles, but you cans ee his eyes behind them. When he reaches you, he pulls off the scarf, and you see a thick beard that disappears beneath the collar of his parka. When he speaks, his tone is polite, but he is obviously cautious and guarded.
"Welcome to Prura Station. We don't get many travellers 'round here, so you'll excuse my curiosity. What business brings you here?"
He has no weapons to hand, but a hunting blaster pistol hangs from his hip, though it seems unlikely he could wield it with the thick mitts he wears. You note some blaster burns on the left sleeve and chest of his parka.
-
Damn, was there any place on this rock that didn't want to freeze the blood in your veins? Trax thought when the wind blew in through the open ramp.
Somewhat reluctantly, with Nim and Maris' words rattling around his skull from the last time, the former hunter hung back slightly, letting Nim move forward first.
-
Nim half expected Trax to intervene again and was resfy to react but it never came. She kept the surprise to herself and nodded to the foreman of some sort. "I come as a representatuve if the Rebel Alliance," she replied.
-
He looks skeptical. "Those folks who make that broadcast?" Nim nods, and the demeanor of the man before you changes. He smiles, waves at the two armed people behind him, who relax. He then turns back to Nim and holds out his hand. "Tyran Bogh. I'm the port master hereabouts. That speech you guys sent out fired up a lot of people. You're gonna be real popular around here. What's yer name?"
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The woman reaches out to firmly return the handshake. "'Name's Nim," she replied and turned to her companions. "Trax and (forgot name). Pleasure to meet. I don't suppose you' d know where I can find the big shots that'd be interested in my spiel?"
-
[OOC: Vash'aja or Vash is the name Mari is using.]
He smiles. "Oh, yeah. There's a few folks that's want to talk to you. Derek Wren for one - it was him that sparked everything once he heard your broadcast. We'd all still be slaves if it weren't for him."
He steps aside and sweeps an arm towards the building. "Come with me and I'll take you to him if you want. At the very lest, I can get you out of this cold."
As you move towards the building, for the first time you spot four exoskeletons hidden in the shadows of the fuelling equipment. Four hard-looking sets of eyes stare at you as you walk past. The exoskeletons look rough, dirty and all bear some cosmetic damage, but they also look formidable.
Tyran notices your gaze. "Security. There's still a station in orbit the Empire holds. Can't be too careful."
Inside, there is warmth and shelter from the wind. The small office has a bank of computers showing various readouts - sensors and traffic control equipment by the looks of it.
Tyran walks over to one of the panels and taps a few times on it. The screen flashes and you see a male face with fresh bandages covering the left side of the face. A piercing blue eye under short cropped dark hair and a few days stubble are visible on the right side of that face. He looks like a rough man - human, or near human.
"Yeah, Ty?"
"Derek. That shuttle landed. Folks here claim to be from the Alliance, want to meet you."
That seems to surprise that face. "Really. Well, bring them down."
Tyran nods. "Right away."
Tyran closes the connection and turns to you. "Derek's down in the med centre. I'll take you if you like." You can leave your gear here if you want - there's lockers in the next room. No need to go outdoors from here. Climate controlled comfort." He smiles disarmingly.
Nim is not getting anything nefarious - Tyran seems like an honet man used to hard labour under trying circumstances. He has a little authority and trust, and there seems to be a strong relationship between him and Derek, or at least familiarity.
Derek is a man in pain, both physical and mental. He's got scars that run deep. He is guarded and cagey, from what she could see from the brief view from the computer terminal.
[Actions?]
Tyran is available for questions, or we can move down to the medical centre.
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"I'd be more than happy to offload this coat," Trax began as he started taking off his heavy winter coat.
"But the armor would take a few minutes and no point in making everyone wait on me so as long as you're okay with it I'll keep it on.
Nice work on the retro fit of those exo's out there," Trax continued, changing the subject without pausing to allow for any objections to him keeping his armor on.
"Bet there were more than a few Imps that needed new pants after seeing those coming at them."
-
Nim hesitated on the gear question. She didn't care about the weapons really, but was definitely uncomfortable leaving her coat and very slightly seemed to hold it closer.
"Appreciate it, but I'll just keep it with me." She looked at Tyran, realizing it could be taken offensively or distrusting. "Just.. bad experience with Imps and snow."
She offloaded anything that Trax did, and did take the headgear and gloves off, stuffing them into a pocket. The woman rubbed her hands together, remembering numbness and frostbite. And crimson stains.
"So, tell us about you and the crew while we head there," Nim suddenly smiled, perking up. "I want to hear all about the people that beat down the bastards."
-
"I'd be more than happy to offload this coat," Trax began as he started taking off his heavy winter coat.
"But the armor would take a few minutes and no point in making everyone wait on me so as long as you're okay with it I'll keep it on.
Nice work on the retro fit of those exo's out there," Trax continued, changing the subject without pausing to allow for any objections to him keeping his armor on.
"Bet there were more than a few Imps that needed new pants after seeing those coming at them."
Tyran nods. "Suit yourself. When we barricaded ourselves in the mine, the Imps figured we'd be easy to starve out. But Derek had a plan to re-jigger the mining lasers. When we came out of the mines in those frames, we caught the Imps with their pants down. With the modifications, we only got a few shots before the lasers burned out, but it was enough."
-
Nim hesitated on the gear question. She didn't care about the weapons really, but was definitely uncomfortable leaving her coat and very slightly seemed to hold it closer.
"Appreciate it, but I'll just keep it with me." She looked at Tyran, realizing it could be taken offensively or distrusting. "Just.. bad experience with Imps and snow."
She offloaded anything that Trax did, and did take the headgear and gloves off, stuffing them into a pocket. The woman rubbed her hands together, remembering numbness and frostbite. And crimson stains.
"So, tell us about you and the crew while we head there," Nim suddenly smiled, perking up. "I want to hear all about the people that beat down the bastards."
You guys head to the lift. "Not much to tell. We're just folk, you know. Used to hard work. But when the Empire commandeered the mine, working conditions went downhill fast. We were slaves, forced to work for no wages and little food. Derek had been a foreman, before the Empire came in, and he held us together for the most part. Subtle, just a quiet word here and there, keep the lads' spirits up, you know? Kept his head down, but he was a motivator. Then, one of the guys had a bootleg receiver he kept stashed away, and thats how we heard your broadcast. Well, that got everyone so fired up. We had a meeting, and Derek asked us all if we were ready to fight. To a one, we said yes. He had all these plans - I guess he had been thinking about this a long time. He'd already figured out how to rejigger the mining lasers into weapons, had a plan for the exoskeletons. Figured he knew what the Empire would do, and blast it all if he weren't right on the money. The Empire turtled at the mine entrance, and we walked all over them. It was over before it really got started. The Empire were preparing for a long siege, but we rolled over them like a big wave, and in a couple of hours the station was ours. It's all Derek, you ask me. He's the one with the plan, and he's the one got everyone good and riled up."
The lift doors open, and you find yourself in a worked stone corridor, with suspended power cables running down the passage. Harsh lighting shows the way, and a sign in front of you points to the right for the medical centre. Left are the barracks and cafeteria.
"Derek's in the med bay - caught a blaster to the face, poor sod. But he's tough as durasteel, that man is. You'll find him there. I gotta get back up. Derek's worried about an orbital bombardment, so I gotta watch the sensors."
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Nim looked at the door to the bay, not entirely sure how to approach a stranger without introduction. "That's a good idea. In fact, if you spot anything at all out of the ordinary, please do let me know as well." She shared her comm with Tyran but didn't feel comfortable alarming him yet on just how right Derek may be. When he left she headed for the medical center.
-
Trax followed Nim into the medbay and instinctively scanned the room. Normally an action like this from the former hunter was to check for threats, this time however it was to asses the injured. He was no slouch when it came to dealing with injuries, he'd even had to heal is own in the field. And of course, a little extra good will on their part could go a long way in any negotiations to come.
[OOC: Let's see if Trax can put that nice First Aid skill to some good use.]
-
There's a few patients here, so Trax checks in with the 2-1B droid and quickly gets put to work. The rebels here apparently do not have a lot of supplies, so the medkits you carry would help a great deal. Most of the dozen or so patients here have varying severity blaster burns and other signs of battle. The medical droid has been doing a good job, but droids aren't known for their bedside manner. Trax lending a hand is a welcome reprieve from that.
Maris sets up by the door, keeping an eye on things. It's scary how easily you all loose track of her, even when she's not ghosting. She has a knack for not being seen unless you are actively looking for her.
Nim spots a section of the medical ward that is walled off with mobile curtains. Walking lightly up, she raps on the divider, and receives a gruff, "Come."
Moving the divider aside, she walks in and sees a large wreck of a man. He has heavy bandaging over an eye, what look like severe blaster burns on his left arm and shoulder, and has been wired up with tubes and IV solutions. He looks rough, and the parts of him not bandaged are heavily bruised.
"Don't mind the mess, it looks worse than it is. I'm Derrek Wen. Forgive me for not shaking hands - broken bones."
-
"Kark," she said, stepping inside and closing the curtain. Nim turned to Wren with a shake of the head but a grin of sorts. "And this is the part where you say I should've seen the other guy, yeah?"
She walked forward a bit and pulled down her medic shades to see if the droids had left anything unresolved. "Name's Nim," she said, scanning him. "Do you like Derek or Wren? Or Derek Wren?"
-
Trax moved from patient to patient checking them each over in turn. Having the report from the droid wasn't especially useful to start seeing as he didn't know who was who, so with each person he began with introductions and then moved on to small talk as he performed his examinations. Asking how they were doing, congratulating them on a hard fought victory and the story around how they were injured were his standard talking points. From there he let each patient take the conversation where they wanted.
For those that didn't seem to be recovering well he broke out his medpacks. The hunter in him knew expending them was unwise, but he wasn't here as a hunter so he had to set those thoughts aside.
[OOC: I'm not sure if there's any specific discussions/interactions with any of the wounded you want to happen which is why I made the post pretty generic and open.]
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"Kark... And this is the part where you say I should've seen the other guy, yeah? Name's Nim. Do you like Derek or Wren? Or Derek Wren?"
"Anything works, but if I had my 'druthers, call me Wren." He speaks in a slow, even pace.
He gingerly holds out a hand.
Nim can tell he's in pain, but he's also doing a great job of hiding it, like he is practiced. He is also under a significant amount of stress. But interacting with him even this short amount of time, you can tell he's a good man, and honest. His motivations are not selfish or personal. Despite his pain, he hides it, and you catch frequent glances to the curtain, as if he is very aware of the others who have sustained worse wounds.
A scan with the visor reveals he's in rough shape, but has been well cared for. There's a few more things that could be done, but those are likely a lack of supplies. Given your read of him, he likely refused some aid to make sure others got it. This man is but on "others before self".
-
[OOC: I'm not sure if there's any specific discussions/interactions with any of the wounded you want to happen which is why I made the post pretty generic and open.]
Trax does some checking up on the droid's work, and everyone he meets is very happy to see him. In the quiet words you share over the next few minutes, you come to understand that these are salt-of-the-earth people who were driven to fight out of desperation, thinking ti would be their last fight. But somehow Derrek Wren brought them through to the other wise. They all speak glowing of Wren, whom you assume is behind the curtain.
But their eyes light up when the see you, a real-life rebel in the flesh. They seem to see it as affirmation that they are not alone in the galaxy, that the fight and sacrifices they bore were not for nothing. It's a heady responsibility, but you seem to be painted into that role whether you want it or not.
One of the patients sticks out - a woman named Martiss who lost her right arm below the elbow. She's worked the mines twenty years, and been a slave probably as long as anyone herem from before the time the Empire came in an nationalized operations. She's buried a lot of friends in those mines. But she's happy the Empire has been beaten.
You scan the medical record. She's taken severe and deep burns from a short-range plasma grenade blast. The droid only gives her 50-50 survival odds, and her condition has worsened since coming into the medical facility. Based on what you're looking at, she's probably not going to make it. She's very week, but awake and aware. The droid has her on some heavy pain meds in an attempt to keep her comfortable, but she really needs a bacta tank, and they don't have one here.
-
Trax flexed his right hand as he looked at Martiss' right arm, he knew what that felt like all too well. He then turned to the medical report and his eyes narrowed slightly. After reading it fully he placed the datapad down on a table beside him and began to remove his armor.
The galaxy was a hard place that offered no guarantees but something tugged at him. After everything the woman had been through he had to, or maybe it was needed to, try to do something. Once he'd fully removed his armor he set up what he guessed he needed and took a deep breath.
[OOC: Force point on First Aid.]
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"We brought some supplies," Nim said, sliding her shades back up and gently taking his hand in both of hers instead of simply shaking. She hoped the warmth of them would ease his suffering a little, if not in body maybe in mind. "My companions Trax and Vash are 'tending to the others. Trax in particular is far more skilled with humans than I."
-
The galaxy was a hard place that offered no guarantees but something tugged at him. After everything the woman had been through he had to, or maybe it was needed to, try to do something. Once he'd fully removed his armor he set up what he guessed he needed and took a deep breath.
[OOC: Force point on First Aid.]
Trax pulls out a medpack. This was a long shot - she'd had just about everything she could have done with a medpack done already. But he set his jaw and went to work anyway.
She feebly tries to tell you not to bother, but you ignore her and get to work anyway. You're not sure how long you work on her, but y the end your hands are cramped, and you have a band of tension running from one shoulder to the other across your back. Tired, you clean up the supplies you used, and look at her. The work was an ordeal for her as well, but she no longer seems to be strained, and is sleeping peacefully. You are gratified to find the medpack monitor reports her vital signs are stabilizing. Given what you are seeing, she should be on the road to recovery.
[It took you an hour, but you made a heroic first aid roll. She was mortally wounded, and had already had two medpacks applied, which made the DC 40, and you rolled a 42.]
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"We brought some supplies," Nim said, sliding her shades back up and gently taking his hand in both of hers instead of simply shaking. She hoped the warmth of them would ease his suffering a little, if not in body maybe in mind. "My companions Trax and Vash are 'tending to the others. Trax in particular is far more skilled with humans than I."
Wren nods his thanks. "We could sure use them. We have a lot of injured. You come all the way out here to Fest on a humanitarian mission? I'm much obliged." The touch of your hands does seem to offer a measure of comfort.
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"Oh I wish. I'd have brought a lot more than a couple medpacs." Nim sighed mostly to herself, and gently set down his hand. Her tone became more serious but not alarming.
"Wren," she started, "there's no point in beating around the bush. I think you know as well as I do why we are here. Your man is back up there watching the sensors for what you believe to an incoming bombardment. Imperial retribution. They like your planetary resources, so they will come sooner or later. We are here now because my sources tell me it is sooner rather than later."
She peered at her chrono. "Much sooner. 'We need you out of this bed' sooner."
-
He looks suddenly tired.
"Your right, I knew it was coming. It was a matter of when, not if. When the bombardment comes, we'll retreat into the mines and try to weather the storm. We have supplies stored there - rations, plenty of fresh water. Excavation equipment to dig ourselves out if need be. Air purifiers. We can bunker down in the mines for a year if we need to. Not even the Empire can open up an entire mountain to get at us."
He pauses. "And when that happens, they'll either wheel me down with them, or leave me here. But I'm a long way from being able to walk around on my own."
-
Trax nodded very slightly in approval. She had earned the right to enjoy her hard fought victory, and now she would be able to. For how long was a whole other matter. He stepped back from the bed, wiped the sweat from his brow and began trying to work out the cramps in his hand as he moved toward the curtained off area where Nim had gone.
[OOC: Would his artificial hand cramp?]
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[No, only the biological one.]
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"Oh I'll make sure you get wheeled down there somehow, so you can pass around orders in the old man's chair."
It was only a half-hearted attempt at humor.
"If the new info is correct, a battlefleet will be here in a few hours rather than the few weeks that were expected. At the very least they will resupply with the station. What they do from there is anyone's guess. There's a chance they bypass Fest and hit someone else, any one of the other planets that also successfully rebelled. Let's just say that your own heroism caused a shockwave through the system."
She gave him a moment to soak in that information. "Hey Trax," she softly called, "can you join me for a minute?" She turned back to Wren.
"Obviously the Alliance didn't send me just to tell you this. In fact my orders have already changed because there's not enough time to warn the others. It is not an acceptable risk for anyone here to wait and see if they hit Fest."
The woman knew that if there was to be a point of contention it'd be over what she presented next, so she did so in a way that she felt he would accept more.
"I've been in touch with Enric and his crew. It wasn't immediate, and I fully understand why, but they have agreed to let us install the two defensive shields we brought in order to minimalize initial casualties and hopefully force a ground invasion. Because the timeline jumped significantly, it is unfortunately all that we brought."
"But," Nim started again. "The Alliance will send additional supplies, manpower, and weapons if - and only if - the factions on Fest put aside their osik for one another and agree to join."
-
[OOC: Unless the conversation between Nim and Wren has had some very long pauses in between replies I think it'll be a while before Trax comes in.]
-
Wren mentally chews on that fur a few moments.
"Enric's in?"
Nim nods, but says nothing else. She can see from his body language that Wren is teetering on the brink of a decision that could go either way. She prudently lets the silence draw out to try and apply subtle pressure to which way he falls.
"There's a lot of bad blood between the militias. Some of it grew out of the civil war, and the war with Mantooine. But the Empire has been fanning those flames for over a decade. A divided populace is easier to control right?"
He takes a breath.
"All right. There's not a lot of us, but those mechs we cobbled together pack a punch. But, we're short on supplies. I know Enric has plenty to spare. If he'll share supplies with us, then we're in. But there's a lot of mistrust between the militias. I'm not keep on taking Enric's orders, and I doubt he'd accept mine. Pretty much every other militia will be the same, so we're going to have a leadership problem. Councils aren't known for making quick decisions. How are you going to deal with that?"
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"Well, signing on means accepting Alliance command, which as you can imagine Enric wasn't thrilled with. There were some.. colorful words. Considering what you've all been through I completely understand. But we will be sending personnel along with the goods. For right now that personnel is me."
"Trax?" she called again towards the curtain.
-
You poke your head out and see Trax is intently concentrating on working with a medkit on a critically wounded woman. Your visor automatically registered her vital signs are weak. At first blush, it looks like Trax may be wasting his time - the woman has extensive injuries. She needs bacta, not a medkit. But something about the set of his jaw and the grim look in his eyes tells you Trax is going to be busy for a while.
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"Kark, his armor is off and everything," she half mumbled to herself and turned back. "Well, I was going to introduce him but Trax has apparently made himself a very busy man. He is a lot more than my meat shield, having been in and led several rebel battles against Imps of various calibre. I think he made a lot of friends in that cantina the miners were celebrating in. I imagine that'll go a long way with your people.”
“I've seen my fair share of combat but intel is my business. I've been kinda shoehorned into diplomacy here. But like your mechs, we adapt." She smirked a little at that.
“Enric is willing to share his supplies. You'll need to get with him real quick about it, they are prepping for osik to hit the turbines today. I can facilitate that for you.”
Ooc: I'm pretty sure I'm correct in what trax has done, no exaggeration is meant here.
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He considers a moment. "Ok. I'll need to sell it to my people, but I don't think it will be a problem. They know the supply situation as well as I do. We're pretty remote here, so probably best to gather everyone where the supplies are. Your ship big enough to transport all of us, wounded too? I don't want to leave anyone behind."
It'd be a tight fit, especially with the wounded, and it would take a few trips, unless Enric has ships you could use. But you should be able to evacuate everyone before the deadline.
[Actions?]
I believe you guys only came with a large shuttle (more of a small transport), so about a maximum of 20 per trip, packed in tight (half that for bed-ridden wounded).
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"I don't have a huge ship, it'll take a few trips. But I'll see what Enric can provide."
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"How many do you have now that can fight?"
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"A little more than a hundred and fifty, with a little more than that walking wounded, and about 25 that can't move on their own power, me included."
He takes a breath, which causes him to wince in pain. "We captured a cargo airspeeder, so we can help with transport. I'm pretty Enric has a ship or two as well - he holds the main spaceport after all. Figure a couple of hours to relocate to Enric's valley, maybe a little more. But I'll need at least an hour to prepare, and half an hour to brief everyone on what's going on. That work for you, Agent?"
He's being pretty reasonable, considering the animosity the various militias have for one another. You can tell he is swallowing mistrust and prejudice in agreeing to this. If everyone is this reasonable, you're going to have an easy time, but something tells you this was now how the rest of them will go.
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OOC: So what's the plan here. There's about 58 minutes before Trax can answer Nim's summons. :)
During the transition, Trax can play medical supervisor while the injured are loaded.
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"Yeah, that's good. What about the mechs, is that included in time and transport?"
OOC: Let's get a hold of Enric I guess. I'd like to get this old man at least moving out of the medbay as well. Find a hoverchair or something.
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The conversation is actually a lot simpler than you expected it. Enric is surprised that Wren agreed, but you spend a little time in negotiation, and Enric agrees to ferry Wren's people and their suits to his territory.
You make special arrangements for Wren and the rest of the badly wounded to travel on your ship - you have better medical facilities than anything Enric could provide. It's a lot of talking, but in the end, it seems to have worked out well. Ships are on their way, and Wren has his people working on a schedule for the relocation.
About this time, Trax is finished working on the older woman. Her colour looks much better. The prognosis is good. She'll still be bed-ridden for a long time, but she'll survive. She's resting comfortably when Trax walks over to Nim, wiping his hands clean on a towel. Nim is in a momentary calm from the storm of activity that had been surrounding her.
[Actions?]
I had waved a little - this was going to be a pretty easy sell. Wren had no real supplies to speak of, and his people were going to start starving, so he didn't have much choice. If I glossed over anything you wanted to explore, please let me know.
Your next ones are going to be more difficult.
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"Didn't mean to be tied up so long.
What'd I miss?"
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"It was a while, so.. galactic peace, Imperial uniforms now clothe the homeless, they painted that one round ball-looking base a nice shade of neon pink. You know, the usual."
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"I'd have gone with yellow." he casually replied while his non verbal queues spoke of the woman he'd been attending to and that she'd survive.
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"Looks good," she faintly smiled. "You did well. Don't be afraid to ask to borrow my gear next time though. Anyway, Wren has agreed, Enrich is going to provide them with support, our ship is transporting, and we're on to the next faction. Enjoy this heat while you can, I highly doubt the next reception will be so nice and cozy."
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"You might have needed it, didn't know what was waiting for you behind the curtain.
Or next time you could hang out with us little people a while longer and not rush off to go hobnobbing with higher ups." he said as he leaned into the woman, giving her a gentle, playful hip check.
"Are we going to see what shakes out with the battle group before we make our next stop? I'd hate to be stuck in hostile territory and not know what's going on."
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Didn't know what was waiting behind the curtain, yet you let me go anyway. Now that's a first.
"Well I had expected you to go with me. Everyone seems to like you," she chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose that's prudent."
OOC: If our transport is busy do we need to wait for it to unload everyone or would we have another means to get to next destination?
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Trax chuckled slightly.
"I think Everyone missed that memo.
I thought about it, going with you I mean, but you're the face of the Alliance here not me." the man sighed a little.
"I hate to admit it, I mean really hate to admit it, but someone was right, as much as I want to be, I can't be there at your side for every meeting. And at least in this case you were just on the other side of a curtain, it wasn't a solid wall and closed door. Those are going to be harder to swallow. At least here I could hear what was going on...well, if I hadn't of gotten so distracted myself. That's something I can't let happen again."
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[OOC: You guys can give a hand with logistics and such. Your ship is only really needed for the medical evacuees. You could do that first, then be free to take it anywhere.]
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OOC: Do we know what the level of tension/animosity is between Wren's group and Enric's? Just wondering if Nim should be there during the entire transfer process to play referee.
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There's some animosity, sure, but both Enric and Wren promised to play nice. I guess it depends on how much you trust the to do so. But Nim's feeling is their desire to work together, despite their differences, is genuine.
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"Everything was good up until that last sentence," she slightly frowned. "You were doing a good thing. let's just leave it at that. Now where did my assistant disappear to?"
OOC: Tbh I have no idea how to RP 'logistics'
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[OOC: I'm good hand-waving that part, unless there is something you guys want to explore.]
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OOC: Nothing for Trax that I can think of.
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OOC: Cool with me. I think ken and I are on the same page of going back to the ship to find out if there are any developments before we take off again.
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Arrangements are made, and transportation provided. It all goes much smoother than you had come to expect - due in no small part to Wren's influence. Some of his people look very unhappy with the situation, but from his bed he soothes their concerns. There's a lot more transportation yet to do, but you have the wounded ensconced within an actual hospital now, and Enric is looking after the rest of the evacuation.
[PM sent to Trax.]
En route, Nim goes over the next dossier.
Gugard Station is the site of a large Imperial smelter and ore processing facility. The smelter and ore processing plant has a fairly large spaceport, suitable for handling small interplanetary craft and airspeeder shuttles. The workers and support personnel live in a fairly large settlement. An Imperial command facility oversees it all, perched on the side of the valley. Weapons on the command facility guard the approaches to the landing platforms.
Rhia Linki is the leader of the militia. They managed to break into an Imperial armoury, timed to coincide with a shift change. The suddenness of the attack allowed them to quickly overwhelm the Imperial defenders, and thus seized control of the docking facilities and the smelter. Simultaneous to that, there was a large explosion in the command centre which apparently took out most of the Imperial senior staff. The rebels then forced their way in and now control the entire valley.
Casualties among the militia were estimated to be high. Alliance Intelligence estimates the militia will be low on resources, but are very well armed.
The wind gives you ship quite a beating as you fly nearly visually blind through the raging winds and weather. Even the larger ship you are in shudders and bucks from the turbulence. As you approach, the ship's comlink beeps.
"Unknown ship, this is Gugard Station. You are entering restricted airspace. Identify yourself."
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OOC: At the very least we need to find out if there are any developments with the battle group or any noise at all. We are possibly thinking of holding off hopping to the next faction based on that info.
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[OOC: No development on the battlegroup side yet - they hadn't arrived in-system by the time you unload the wounded.]
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"Gugard Station, this is Agent Naja with the Rebel Alliance requesting a meeting with Rhia Linki."
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"Who with that what? You mean those guys made that ...?" There is some scuffling and muffled conversation.
"Agent Naja, this is Lieutenant Cleagre. You are cleared for landing on platform 7. Do not deviate from your assigned flight path."
Your pilot notes, "They've turned on a landing beacon."
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"Les'go," she nodded. "This is probably the last welcome signal we'll have for a while."
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You make your way through the bucking winds. At the last moment, the landing pad comes in to view through the swirling snow. Your pilot has a hard time centering the ship, and at one point it looked like he might miss, but there is a lull in the wind gusts for a moment, and he sets the ship down in a moderately hard landing. Immediately tractor beams engage, holding your ship firmly in place against the winds.
Welcome to Gugard Station.
[Actions?]
How do you want to present yourselves?
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OOC: Um, with feral screams and blasters a blazing? :P
Trax's preference would be to leave the ship walking ahead of Nim, but he understands how that may look so he'll move in whatever formation she decides.
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Nim nods for Trax to move forward first as a real bodyguard and will wait for him to scout it out.
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Trax hit the button to lower the boarding ramp and walked down to the end of it. There the former hunter took in the scene around them on the landing pad.
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Trax steps down the ramp, looking every bit the armed guard. Through the swirling snow, you spot several figured huddled against the cold over by a lift. Two of them separate and come forward. There are no obvious signs of weapons - their thick cold weather gear is bulk enough to hide a small pistol easily, but none of them are carrying anything big.
The wind is harsh here, biting through even your cold weather gear. You are not going to want to stay out in the open long.
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Trax turned and looked up the ramp at Nim. He gave her a nod indicating there was at least no immediate danger apparent.
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At his cue Nim strut down the ramp with a rather crisp military gait, very much appearing as an officer with a mission. It was not her normal gait by any means and purely set up just for this visit. She knew this faction was going to different and hoped this particular air would be received better than the others but was prepared to change in a heartbeat.
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One of the figures steps forward, pulls off one glove, and offers his hand.
"Agent Naga? Lieutenant Cleagre, Gugard Militia. Welcome to Gugard Station." You shake hands. It's hard to read him through the heavy winter gear and the goggles, but his tone and facial expression (at least the part you can see) indicate respect.
"Let's get out of the wind. There's a big storm moving in. With your permission, we'll set anchors on your ship so you don't have to worry about it blowing away. The winds can get pretty high at this altitude. It'll be quieter down in the valley."
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"By all means, thank you," she replied with a nod. "How long should the storm last? I imagine there's no leaving until it is over?"
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OOC: Nothing to add for Trax, he'll simply fall in line and follow.
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"Looks like it might be a bad one. You might be able to climb above it before it threw you into the mountain, but I wouldn't try it." He smiles and laughs good-naturedly. He waves at some more folks hanging out by the door, and they move in and start to activate some equipment around the perimeter of the landing platform. By the time you reach the door, the wind has already chilled all of you. You glance back, and see some beam emitters have activated, and they appear to have tarctorered your ship to hold it secure against the wind.
Ducking inside, you feel the warmth hit you. They must have the heat turned up in this room to combat the wind.
Lieutenant Cleagre pulls off his gloves, hood and goggles before turning to you. He is a tall, handsome-looking man with a face that looks younger than he probably is, with dark skin and short, curly hair. He smiles as he takes off his coat and shakes the snow off it before hanging it on a hook by the door.
"Yeah, we've been watching this one build for a bit. We were about to secure the landing pads when you popped up on our sensors. Not many people fly in this weather - well, not many with good intentions anyway." He smiles again.
He seems genuine, and is very happy to see you.
One of the others in the room - a younger male, probably not more than 20, with a short beard and shaggy blonde hair, says, "You're from the Rebellion, right? How many planets? How big is your fleet? Are there others like us?"
Cleagre gives him a good-natured slug in the shoulder. "Cool it, Tyle. She didn't come here to be drooled on." The younger man looks at Cleagre and then to you. "Sorry. Ma'am. We're just..."
Cleagre cuts him off. "...Excited. Yeah. Why don't you go secure Pad 12, before that shuttle blows away?"
The young man gets serious. "Right. Sorry, sir." He turns to you. "Sorry ma'am." He then shrugs into a coat and heads out the door.
C;eagre says, "Come this way. You'll have to excuse some of the folks here - that speech you guys broadcast got everyone pretty riled up. Some of them haven't come down off the adrenaline yet." He leads you down a corridor to a lift.
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OOC: Got nothing to add for Trax. Michelle, whenever you're ready go ahead.
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Nim expressionlessly looked back at the shuttle but inside she was certainly having thoughts that the storm was some sort of foretelling that this mountain might end up their tomb in a few hours.
She nodded to the younger man and smiled to Cleagre as they moved inside. "I don't mind. It seems to be a theme here on Fest, and a much welcome one. So how many do you have out here?"
OOC: So I haven't forgotten about Maris, but she hasn't been seen or heard since the medbay at the other base. Is that oversight or should I be concerned?
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[OOC: Maris has been around, though I haven't mentioned her explicitly. She did vanish as you guys were coming in for a landing. You haven't seen her since.]
Lt. Cleagre leads you into a covered passage. The transparisteel cover gives you a bird's eye view of the settlement as you proceed towards the mountain. Several large smoke stacks, likely part of the smelters that operated here, dominate the skyline, though the smelters are apparently not working, as no smoke is visible.
As you walk, Cleagre continues the discussion. "Hmm? How many? Well, I guess there'd be a little over fifteen hundred of us left that can fight, and twice that many others. We lived here with our families, not just workers. When the uprising started, about half the population joined in."
You reach another building, apparently perched on the side of the mountain. Cleagre hits a button and in a few moments the doors of a lift open. He steps inside.
"So, how many other planets are up in arms? We figured we weren't the only ones, but with the Empire controlling broadcasts, it's hard to get news from off-planet."
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"Openly? About 30, give or take." She neglected to mention half were actually hopeful.
Nim stepped into the lift, and although the scene outside was quite breathtaking of the landscape, she couldn't really say she was all that fond of snowy mountains anymore.
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Trax followed Nim onto the lift.
"And as news of what you were able to do spreads, that number will grow. As much as the broadcast inspired you to fight back, news of your success will inspire others even more."
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Cleagre whistles as the lift continues to rise. You have an amazing view of the valley through the transparisteel walls of the lift tube, broken every second or so by non-transparent reinforcements that whip past as the lift flies past. The view is amazing, but much of it is shrouded in thick snow, so you only see twinkling lights out in the distance. But the closer buildings are still visible, and the rocky sides of the valley loom in the white shroud.
"We figured lots of folks were sick and tired, but we never imagined it would be so many."
The lift comes to a stop and the doors open. Two armed guards stand outside the lift, alert, but their weapons are not raised. They nod to Cleagre. "Sir. The Commander is in the command room."
Cleagre nods, and sweeps his arm to usher you two ahead.
He takes you down a short corridor, and through a large, open blast door to a large room. In the Imperial style, there is a central walkway with pits to either side full of consoles, and a large open area for the base commander to feel imperious. You see a middle-aged woman standing there, speaking to several other folks dressed much as Cleagre is. When she sees you she stops speaking and looks up. Everyone around her turns to look at the two of you.
Cleagre says, "Ma'am, the Rebel Envoy, Agent Naja."
The group of them quickly break into applause. The woman in the centre, a large smile on her face, steps forward with a hand out.
"Agent Naja. Rhia Linki. The folks here call me commander, but I was a foreman before all this broke out. Thank you for that broadcast - it gave is the push we needed to take the station."
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Nim spoke as she too walked forward and strongly grasped the woman's hand. "Foreman in a facility this large is nothing to scoff at. So please, call me Nim. Besides, only Trax here has to call me Agent, 'cause I have permission to kick him out of the shuttle at 30k feet. He knows it's no bluff because I've done it."
She gave him a wry smirk and turned back. "Congratulations are certainly in order on your part for your victory. I'm happy to see the message had its intended effect."
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She smiles with a nervous laugh. "Tell you the truth, we were afraid at first that we were the only ones in the galaxy. But we heard the other factions on the planet had their successes as well. Are there other planets in revolt?"
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"Oh yes. At least thirty are openly revolting. News of your success has inspired many."
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She draws a breath. "Not sure I'd call it a success yet. We beat them in a surprise attack, sure, but holding Fest is a whole other matter."
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Her demeanor fell to a quiet seriousness, her ruby lips forming a thin line.
"Yes. Yes it is a whole other matter."
Nim gave Trax a sideways look that read she wasn't thrilled at killing their mood so karking soon.
"Good.You understand that undertaking. A little more than the other factions did." She peered at all of the eyes around the room centered on her. "Commander, I need to speak frankly. Up to you whom should hear."
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She looks around the room. "Give us a moment alone?" There's a few reluctant looks, but eventually everyone files out of the room.
As he leaves, Rhia calls out, "Cleagre! Close that door, would you?"
The inner door slides shut, and Rhia Linki turns to you.
"Ok, Agent Naja, cards on the table. There's still a station in orbit in Imperial hands, and I doubt the anyone has cracked that bunker. We're a major raw materials provider for the Empire. Now maybe the Rebellion sent you out here just to say hi, but that seems a long way to come. So what's going on?"
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Nim didn’t ask, but kark if she didn’t want to wince at the lack of Rhia’s trust of anyone of that group.
“Congratulate everyone was on the list. But mostly we came here with word of an invasion of one of these nearby planets in the not so distant future, and started talking to the factions to unite everyone for when the time comes. But soon after arrival we found out that timetable had jumped significantly. Instead of near-future, it is more like,” she checked her chrono, “..in the next hour.”
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She frowns and sighs. "Well, shit."
She turns and walks to the windows overlooking the valley.
"You've been to the other militias? Which ones, and what did they say?"
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"Both of them. Enric and (insert name). We brought two small shield generators, which we donated regardless of whether they joined the Alliance, and they are moving their people to them as we speak. They agreed to share supplies and manpower with all the factions. The miners didn't fare very well and frankly are still recovering but they are getting ready. Enric's is in a much better position so they're helping them get set up. If you join them the survival chance of Fest goes up tremendously. And, sadly I know how much it sounds like an ultimatum at the 11th hour, but if you also agree to join the Alliance we will send supplies, weapons, manpower. But because the timetable jumped, we would have to hold out for a few weeks."
"But again, that assumes the Imps decide to stay. I absolutely cannot predict where they will go after resupplying. But if your resources are valuable enough, and the shields are enough deterrent, if they do stay I think it will be a full on ground invasion rather than bombardment. And if they hit another planet instead, it is likely just a matter of time before they come back."
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Rhia frowns, and starts pacing away from you a few steps.
"So what's your role here, Agent? What are you after?"
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[OOC: In case it wasn't clear, Trax is in the room with you.]
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[OOC: Yeah, that was still my understanding. Linki is welcome to try to order him out but the best she'd get is a raised eyebrow from him.
Trax is just observing, and wondering if why she doesn't trust any of her staff to be in on this discussion.]
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"I'm not much of a diplomat but my role is to persuade the system to join the alliance. We started with Fest. But with the imps bearing down suddenly, the factions here have to cooperate or there might not be a Fest left to join up. We have a good shot at saving many of these people but we need your help to make this happen. The imps will come in with a vengeance, make a bloody example out of Fest to serve as a warning to the some dozen planets uprising now."
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It sounded so practiced. It wasn't, but it sounded It. Would that have recruited Nim if she had been in her place?
"You know what, let me be real for a second."
She paused, and those horrific images flashed again.
"Us two nearly died on a frozen mountaintop not too long ago. Giant imperial ambush slaughtered our team wholesale."
Nim circled a finger in the air indicating their present location.
"And I absolutely do not fancy revisiting that but if I had to I'd at least like a fighting chance this time, maybe take a few with me. If they come bearing gifts, we're not leaving, regardless of that storm out there."
"Maybe, maybe your resources are too valuable. But the imps once glassed an entire planet for a small rebel cell. Considering the first planet to be hit will be made an example for the rest of the galaxy, I wouldn't put it past them to simply blast in this mountain and spike up the heads of everyone else."