[IC] Agents of the Emperor

[Talespinner]

As the Emperor's throne turns slowly to face you, a sense of penetrating dread floods the chamber.

In body, Palpatine appears old, withered, hunched. But power radiates from him like the rays of a dark sun, the power to effortlessly end the lives of any who stand before him. His cold gaze sweeps across his assembled agents, probing, assessing, and you wonder if he can somehow read the secret you hide from him. If he can, if he somehow knows your hidden plans, he gives no sign.

Finally he speaks, his voice an icy hiss. "I have sensed a disturbance in the Force." His strange yellow eyes gaze past his assembled servants for a moment, focusing on something beyond his throne room. "Slave workers on the planet Karvoss II have begun to revere the Matukai cult and defy their overseers. Their weapons are more sophisticated than they could acquire alone."

The implications slowly sink in. Karvoss II, located in the industrialized Core Worlds, is a key manufacturer of the plastoid plates that compose stormtrooper armor. It is also the world where the Matukai order of Force-users first originated, millennia ago. "Like the Jedi," Palpatine spits, "the Matukai are dead. Superstition has no place in the New Order. Nor does resistance."

The Emperor pauses, his eyes again sweeping across each of his agents. "You will destroy this uprising. You will find out who is supplying them. And you will ensure that production on Karvoss II remains on schedule." Clear threat underlies his every word. He has thousands of other agents who would give anything to climb over your body and take your place. This task could be your last... or advance your agenda.

"One of you will take command of this mission," he declares dismissively, turning his throne away.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OOC: In your first post, introduce your character, react to the mission, and vote for a mission leader. Make it clear who you are voting for by also putting that agent's name after an OOC tag at the bottom of your post, like this. The mission region is the Industrialized Core Worlds, so no one gets a homeworld bonus this time.

[Henry the 57th]

Respectfully on one knee before the Emperor is Inquisitor Bel Attar. His body is completely wrapped in a jumpsuit such a dark shade of blue that the shadowy black armor plates can barely be picked out at all. A helmet is fitted tightly about his head, with a featureless black armored mask capping it off. An observant onlooker would note that one could gain absolutely nothing about his true appearance from looking at him now. He stares up at his liege through faintly yellow crystalline lenses, still as a statue while Palpatine speaks. It is only once the Emperor begins to turn away that he deigns to look at any of his fellows.

"Comrades," Bel's voice is cold, mechanical, and obviously filtered. Again, an observer might note that it gives them no hint whatsoever of what he actually sounds like. "If his majesty wishes us to choose a commander, I suggest that we turn to he with the most experience in this field." he nods in the direction of Admiral Dubdin. "Your reputation precedes you, Admiral," he says, with no hint of inflection. "I think you would make suitable leader."

[whiteflash]

Jan can hardly suppress a shiver at his fear of the Emperor, and doesn't dare truly turn away from him or even rise from his knee even after the Emperor has turned away from them, but he turns his head slightly to look at the Inquisitor.

"I'd have thought you were a wiser choice for this task, Inquisitor. We have orders to destroy a cult without disrupting the planet around it, and sniff out the agents supplying them with weapons. This task will take cunning, and an understanding of covert action. Admiral Dubdin is a great man, and I can't deny he's done impressive things for our master and the Empire, but I think this is going to require your strengths more than it requires his."

OOC: I think I've made it clear enough who I'm voting for, but just in case, I vote for Inquisitor Bel Attar.

[Rofltrollcopter]

As the Emperor turned away from the group, Camdar offered a respectful parade ground salute. When Camdar stomped down with his augmented leg, there was a slight vibration in the floor. Camdar was dressed in his old stormtrooper armor, which had been scarred by dozens of blaster bolts that failed to bring him down. He held his helmet under his left arm.

He turned to address his fellow agents. Bombarding the planet from orbit would cause inexcusable damage to the Empire's Infrastructure. The Imperial Navy will be of little use for this operation. This is a search and destroy mission.

Camdar considered who to throw his support behind. Truth be told, he felt that he was most suited to take command. However trying to turn the currently fielded votes in his favor would likely be a wasted endeavor. Instead he considered what he could stand to gain from casting his support behind an existing party.

He walked over and stared straight into Camdar's helmet. Find the enemies of the Empire. Give me a target

OOC:

Seconding the Inquisitor.

[tenketsu]

Samjas Dubdin tried not to show his relief when the Emperor turned away. He may be sworn to serve the man, if you could call him that, but that made his presence no less disconcerting. The Force as a whole was bad enough, but the amount of Dark Side power the Emperor possessed made it feel more like conversing with a black hole than a person.

His best dress uniform tinkled with medals as he turned to his peers. He inclined his head in respectful acknowledgement to the Inquisitor for his vote. For himself, he was still thinking--how could this best be resolved with minimal disaster? He had barely heard of the Mukutai, perhaps there was some useful knowledge there for unraveling this knot. It would serve everyone's interests best if these Force users were brought to heel and turned rather than destroyed.

Watching the way the votes were going, he didn't want to make waves--at least not until he knew where the shore lie. "It appears Inquisitor Attar has the lead, and just to make it official I'll give him my support as well." Samjas secretly hoped the Dark Side hadn't turned the Inquisitor into a bloodthirsty madman the way it seemed to do to so many others.

OOC: I believe that seals it for the Inquisitor

[Lentrax]

Suri, programmed to be loyal to a fault to the Emperor and his New Order, kneels before him. Never in millions of calculations did she ever think she would be here, in his presence, and that he would be directing her actions himself. Considering what she knew of the Force, she had to assume that the Emperor is aware of her droid nature, but she didn’t know what the others knew. Very little, probably. From what she understood, the facility that created her had been destroyed, it’s scientists killed.

And so she kneeled, secure in her sense of identity. As the emperor turns away, Suri rises.

While I am certain the inquisitor would be ideal for stamping out a cult, this is likely a matter better left for the military. But, since the inquisitor already has the majority, I will defer to his judgement.

[Henry the 57th]

The Inquisitor's masked face sweeps briefly over the the four others. "Very well," he says, getting to his feet with mechanically-filtered voice as emotionless and inscrutable as ever. Bel Attar folds his arms behind his back, looking over each member in turn once again.

"I have a strategy, of course," he says a moment later. "Admiral Dubdin, I wish you to liaise with the Imperial Navy. We will need quiet transport to Karvoss II, but we will also require their ongoing support. If the slaves have acquired military hardware beyond what they might have done on their own, they must have received offworld support. Their is no reason to presume that this illicit inflow has ceased, so we will need the Navy in position to seize any identifying smuggling ships attempting to make a run for deep space."

His gaze shifts slightly to Jan. "Mr Scrap, I will require your abilities at data analysis. Unless the entire planet is thoroughly compromised, it is virtually certain that there will be a connection between the arrival and departure of certain starships and the initial appearance of military hardware in insurgent hands. What I will need from you is names, dates, and locations. Where are the hotspots of rebel activity? What starports are nearby, and what ships make frequent or unusual visitations to them? How could weapons be transferred from offworld to the rebels without attracting Imperial attention? All of these things will be vital to a swift victory."

He looks over at Suri. "Ms Suri, your efforts will be required as an infiltrator. Once we have an idea of where the rebels are most concentrated, we will need your skills in identifying their command structure. Someone must be preaching this superstition of theirs, and someone must be making military decisions. Your task will be to find out whom, and where."

Lastly, Bel looks up impassively at the hulking Stormtrooper in front of him. "Agent Vaal, you will have your targets. If we are to succeed quickly and efficiently, I will require your best. Once we have identified key agents of weapons smuggling and cult leadership, I will rely on you to lead swift raids into the most dangerous hotspots to capture rebel command and eliminate the rest. I want as many ranking prisoners as possible, you understand?" he pauses a moment. "If we can capture or eliminate their central leadership and supply of weaponry in one swift stroke, we will tear the heart from their rebellion before it can do any further harm. Any remaining resistance will be scattered, disorganized, and poorly-armed, easy prey for local government enforcement. Meanwhile, we can focus on extracting information from prisoners about the source of their weapons, then track them down for elimination." Bel clenches a dark gloved fist. "Success will see the rebellion beheaded and choked off before it can begin, and their allies hunted down and terminated."

The Inquisitor's dark mask sweeps over his four voluntary subordinates, scrutinizing each one. "Questions?"

Admiral Dubdin gets Travel, Jan and Suri get Preparation, and Camdar gets Operation. Everyone cool with that?

[Talespinner]

"So be it," the Emperor hisses, once again watching as a mission leader is chosen.

If he approves or disapproves of the Inquisitor's demands, he gives no sign. Palpatine is perfectly still, a shadow upon the throne, his yellow eyes flicking inscrutably across the five agents. As the instructions fall silent, the plan laid out, he beckons with one withered hand, the pull of dark power behind each gesture. One by one the servants of the Emperor come before his throne, his darkness crashing over them.

Jan Scrap is first. Palpatine regards him with amusement. "I have sensed your skill, the cleverness that has permitted you to crawl out of this planet's gutter. You are an asset to us, but remember: there are thousand more waiting to drag you back down into the filth if you should fail me. I foresee that you will learn something important from one who has been banished."

Suri approaches next. The Emperor regards her with something akin to caution, though not fear. He cannot see into her mechanical mind, and that makes her an uncertain variable. "Whether or not you are a useful project or a waste of the great minds lost at your birthplace remains to be seen," he whispers. "I foresee that an enemy will do you an act of kindness, and you will accept it."

The Emperor smiles a ghastly smile as Camdar approaches him, feeling the rage and pain within the elite soldier's heart. "I can sense your hatred," he whispers, closing his eyes and letting the cold touch of his consciousness roll over Camdar's mind. "Harness it well. Do not permit it to make you sloppy. For I have foreseen that an enemy will ask you for mercy, and you will refuse to give it."

The Admiral is next. Palpatine regards him coolly, assessing the aging military man, though Dubdin cannot tell what exactly he is being assessed for. "Loyalty is to be commended," he finally hisses. "But where do your loyalties lie, Admiral? With me? With the New Order? Or is there some principle you place first? I have seen that you will be forced to betray one of the principles of the Republic you once served."

Finally, the Inquisitor stands before the throne. This is his moment, his chance to take control of the mission and prove himself a worthy leader and trusted servant. Palpatine's mind touches his through the Force, an ocean of darkness brushing against a lake. "Your hate and torment make you strong," the Emperor whispers. "But I have foreseen that you will be forced to strike a difficult bargain."

As Bel Attar descends the steps, the Emperor dismisses the assembled agents with a wave of his hand, returning to his contemplations. It is time for the preparation for the Karvoss II mission to begin.

[Lentrax]

Suri’s mind begins calculating. Infiltrating a slave camp is not difficult, for it easy enough to pass oneself off as a slave. But this is not just infiltrating a slave camp. Instead she is infiltrating a cult. A cult is more watchful of who they let in lest they be betrayed.

She analyzes vectors, routes of possible attack of an outside influence. As an assassin, she has contacts with many organizations of dubious morality. She can use them to get her onto the planet as yet another source of weapons and training. From there she can learn of the cult. Ingratiate herself with them. Find their leaders. Wait for timelines to sync. Execute the leaders, leave the cult without organized direction.

Leave the rest to the others.

Get off-world, report back....

She had all of this planned before the inquisitor had finished his directions to the trooper. That changes things slightly.

She alters the plan.

Instead of executing them, she will instead mark them for her companion. Small tags that will be able to light on his sensor packages. Some she can eliminate herself. After all, with the events about to proceed, Suri had to find some pleasure in her work.

I require five days to infiltrate this cult, identify its leadership and frenzy them into open rebellion. At that time, the local gobernment should step up on its efforts to stamp out the cult. This will let me bring the leaders together into one location. We can behead the entire organization in one swift blow.

Suri will be using her Cunning to infiltrate the cults leadership and bring them together in open rebellion to make them easier to destroy.

[whiteflash]

"I should have what you require from me in the same time frame, sir."

"Like Ms Suri, I intend to head to the mission site early to have the information before the rest of the team arrives. I do not intend to travel with her, as that could lead to complications if we're seen arriving together."

"As per your orders, I intend to cross-reference the list of known rebel attacks with the local spaceport records, to see if there's any particular spaceship that seems show up on them every time the rebels get a new shipment of blasters. But I believe I should also ask the local officials if they've seen any ships fly by that didn't dock at the official spaceports... and look for any obvious holes in the local surveillance setups that could allow a ship to fly up to a rebel stronghold without the authorities noticing. My suspicion is that the rebels have some wilderness camp or camps well away from His Imperial Majesty's eyes and ears on the planet, and that the first step to finding their hideaways and hidden pipeline of weapons... is to figure out where we haven't looked yet."

Jan didn't know if he should tell the Inquisitor that he was expecting to get his major break this way, since the Emperor's prophecy had been told to him privately, but... "And maybe I should listen to local gossip at the planet's bars, just on general principles."

"One point I'd ask that you clarify: should Ms Suri and I remain on Karvoss II and wait for you, or return to Imperial Center to travel to Karvoss with the fleet?"

I have my plan, mostly. Now I need my roll. [roll0]

[Talespinner]

The Imperial war machine is vast and destructive, but the Emperor also wields precision tools.

One such tool was Jan Scrap. Experienced both in understanding the criminal underworld and in seeking out information others would prefer remain hidden, he arrived in secret on Karvoss II well ahead of the rest of the strike team. A grim world of grey stone and windswept canyons, the manufacturing planet is studded with plastoid factories and the geothermal plants that power them, tapping the energy of the unstable mantle.

No stranger to tracing the thinnest of data trails, Jan was quickly able to chase down dozens of leads on the smugglers. The planetary sensor grid was good enough that there were few holes where unauthorized ships could slip through, but by cross-referencing personnel files with spaceport gossip and currency transfers, the slicer uncovered the truth. Arms traders were bribing bored customs agents to move through the ports.

Before long, Jan had teased out everything. Cargo manifests, transponder codes, the names of the pilots and the corrupt customs officials... as long as he kept following the leads, he would soon have all the information there was to have about the offworld smugglers. He even uncovered their employer: none other than Senator Ranzier, the local sector representative. But what he would do with this information was in his hands...


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another such precision instrument was the HRD Suri. While Jan rooted out the smuggling ring, the droid assassin infiltrated the Heirs of the Matukai cult. At first, the infiltration was child's play. With her extensive programming and databases on sentient behavior, it was easy to act the part of the perfect recruit: disgruntled, fiery, ready to take action and believe in something. Cult agents approached her within a day of her arrival.

As Suri underwent the cult's initiation rituals, her synthetic skin daubed with ritual paints patterned after ancient Matukai tattoos, she was able to catalog and investigate each member she encountered. They were mostly disgruntled local slave workers, forced to labor on almost no food or sleep, easily replaced when they dropped. They had managed to cleverly subvert their restraints to appear active, but they were actually powered off.

By volunteering over and over to lead small raids, stealing supplies or vandalizing Imperial propaganda, Suri soon came to the attention of the cult's leadership. Most of them were just more experienced slaves... but one caught her eye. They called him The Inheritor, and he was the one who trained the others to fight. He bore Matukai tattoos, and knew things he should not have been able to know. And somehow, with senses beyond human senses, he had begun to suspect Suri...

[tenketsu]

Admiral Dubdin tried not to show the chill he felt from the Emperor's words. "As you say, my Lord." he said while bowing respectfully before stepping back. He gathered with the others. "Try to remember," he told the rest, "that turning these rebels to our cause is an even more complete destruction than killing the lot of them. If we see a chance to sway them, we should take it. With all due respect to you, Mission Leader." he nodded at the Inquisitor.

Once they broke up, he wasted no time in arranging for stealth troop transports to bring the second wave of them to Karvoss II, followed by the third wave--his personal Star Destroyer squadron who took up picketing positions around the hyperlanes leading to and from Karvoss II.

He was the first of his group to step off the transport and onto Karvoss II soil. He breathed it in, not bad, as these sort of places went. He hoped when they left it wouldn't be choked with smoke from the fires of conflict. "You men stay here at the spaceport until I call for you, understand?" he addressed the contingent of Stormtroopers that came with them. He moved away from the ship, allowing his teammates to exit also.

Travel: Loyalty: [roll0]

[whiteflash]

"The Emperor is even greater than I thought. I'd thought I'd get one lead by following his advice and figuring out who the rebels had recently thrown out, but..."

"But here I am giving you all my former comrades' hideaways, and telling you where they hide the weapons. Telling you which officials I paid off to get my stock through customs, giving you my best guesses as to who else was smuggling for the rebellion, and giving you my best guesses which officials they'd paid off to get their weapons through customs. And your investigations wound up proving a lot of my guesses were right. I even confirmed that the leader has the abilities of a true Matukai, and confirmed your guess as to who was bankrolling him."

"And all because you understand that the Emperor is more to be feared. Now, as I understand it, you'd wanted us to return the small, light freighter your former comrades... 'appropriated' from you. That might be doable. As I said before..."

"Yeah. The fleet's about to arrive, and this is about to go from guerrilla action to a full on war. My ship will be at ground zero, and might be a casualty. Or the Matukai rebellion might destroy it to deny the enemy a resource. But you promised..."

"That if it survives, it's yours. And if it doesn't, I'll introduce you to Admiral Dubdin, and see if I can get you flying for the right side." Jan paused. "You're sure my other offer doesn't appeal? That if your ship survives, you won't consider becoming a smuggler for the right side?"

The former-smuggler-no-matter-how-this-went sighed. "I'm sorry. Your offer is generous. It really is. But I've had enough of that life. If my ship survives, I'm going to become a legitimate trader. It's not as lucrative, but I still have my savings, and this way I might live long enough to retire. If my ship doesn't survive, I'm going to take you up on your offer to try to get me into the pilot corps. I've got the skills, and I know how to think like a smuggler. I'll be catching blockade runners in no time."

"I understand. No matter how this goes, good luck."

"Thanks." The former smuggler left to await the outcome of the battle, leaving a hologram-projector on the table that the Empire could contact him with if they needed more information than he'd already provided.

Jan had mixed feelings as he watched the smuggler go. It was true the smuggler might mean the difference between success and failure for the mission, and if nothing else, confirming Senator Ranzier's involvement would go a long way towards making sure the problem stayed solved. But he'd refused to help Jan's long term plans. Still, Jan couldn't blame him for wanting to leave the world of crime behind.

But that meant that Jan was going to have to take a risk, if he wanted to find a smuggler on this rock. He'd have to contact a different smuggler and try to persuade him or her to defect from the rebellion. That smuggler might refuse, or even tell his leadership the Empire was about to get serious. This might put both Jan and Suri in danger, and the fleet wasn't due to arrive for another few days. Maybe he should tell more than one? If he did, it was almost certain at least one would defect to him... but at least one was probably going to rat him out. Still, that'd leave him at least one weapon smuggler to work with.

If he lived.

Jan briefly considered changing the plan, and just blackmailing Senator Ranzier. But no, Jan didn't think that would get him anywhere over the long term. As he saw it the Emperor was trying to be less of a Glorified Grand Chancellor, and more of a gang leader. Gang leaders don't lead by talking to a committee, and Jan didn't think having a Senator in his pocket was going to be a feather in his cap for more than a few years before the Emperor made sure it stopped mattering. Besides, Senator Ranzier would hate him, and the smugglers would be grateful; when possible, it's best to ensure your minions love you as much as they fear you. No, it was better to sell Senator Ranzier to the Empire, and work with as many of his hirelings as Jan could save.

Besides, if this all went wrong, selling out Senator Ranzier might be the only thing that could save Jan from a particularly messy execution. If Jan did have to do that, he'd be safer if Senator Ranzier didn't have any hint he was in danger until the stormtroopers told him themselves.

"No reward without risk..."

OOC: The smuggler is not going to directly involve himself in this, but he has really fresh information that can be used to help plan any direct action against the rebels, and he's willing to provide as much as we need. Also, Jan's betraying Suri. He's going to warn some of the smugglers the Matukai leader is using that the Empire is about to get serious, so that they'll survive this and owe Jan that survival. He knows that this puts both himself and Suri in danger, but he's taking that risk.

[Talespinner]

With the information secured from the smugglers, along with his own tactical genius, Admiral Dubdin was easily able to secure stealthy transport to the Karvoss system. Under his expert direction, stormtroopers of the 727th Legion boarded sensor-baffled dropships and descended silently to the planet's rugged surface. White armor marched steadily across the grey-brown soil, surrounding the cult hotspots Jan and Suri had identified.

In the meantime, cleverly-positioned Star Destroyers of the Admiral's personal battlegroup intercepted all traffic in and out of the planet. There would be no help coming for these rebels, and no escape. Admiral Dubdin himself, leading from the front as an honorable officer should - and so few Imperials of his rank ever did - directed the full deployment of the Empire's assets, carefully planned for minimal collateral damage.

It now fell to Camdar Vaal to take those assembled forces and lead them to wipe out the cult.


------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Jan Scrap made his move, trying to turn the smugglers to his own ends.

It was a clever plan, if one that might have jeopardized Suri's life as well as his own. But Jan had not counted on the contingencies of Senator Ranzier. One of the smugglers who became aware of the imminent Imperial crackdown alerted the senator himself... and the man raced to save his own position. Ranzier approached the Emperor and immediately turned over the full list of smugglers... and the fact that Jan had alerted them.

As the Admiral's troops began to land, a squad of Inquisitorial storm commandos came for Jan, to escort him back to Imperial Center to answer to his master. It was his word against Ranzier's now. Both had betrayed the Emperor, in a sense, and it remained to be seen which could more effectively pin the entire fiasco on the other. Step by step, the slicer drew closer to the Emperor's throne room, where his life would hang in the balance.

The throne room was dark and cold, filled with the seething anger of a being of terrible power. Senator Ranzier already stood within. A tall, gaunt, pallid human, he seemed somehow stretched. His features were an attempt at an emotionless mask, but Jan could see the terror written beneath. "Leave us," the Emperor ordered, and the storm commandos departed, leaving Jan and Ranzier alone with Palpatine.

Slowly the Emperor's throne turned to face his two subordinates. "Explain yourself," he said flatly.

[Rofltrollcopter]

(Back in the Throne room, before the mission started)

Camdar stood at the back, folding his arms nut nodding as the Inquisitor outlined his plan. It was a good plan. It that took advantage of all the agents strengths and weaknesses. Camdar didn't raise any objections, he wasn't the type to challenge a good plan just because it didn't come from him.

He narrowed his eyes in contempt as the Admiral extolled the virtues of trying to build a rapport with Rebels. As if a blue-blood navy officer knew anything about the realities of frontline combat. Of course. The Navy does the flying while the Troops do the dieing. He didn't bother trying to hide his contempt.



------------------------------------------------------------------------

As part of the preparations for the mission to Karvoss II, Camdar arranged for the addition of the 43rd ISB tactical unit, the company of stormtroopers under his command. Bringing in the 727th was the right decision - the presence of this rebellion meant that the planetary garrison was either incompetent or controlled by rebel sympathizers. Either way, the garrison couldn't be relied upon to do their damn jobs. For the upcoming mission, Camdar preferred working with ISB. No one in the 43rd had the enhancements that he had. However they were disciplined, loyal, and most importantly were experienced with these types of counter-insurgency operations.

According to Suri's report, now that the planet was under lockdown the high ranking leaders had converged at an ancient Matukai hidden. The temple was hidden inside one of the numerous mazelike grey canyons on the planet's surface.He spent the night before the mission reviewing the plan with all of the squadleaders in the company. They poured over the intelligence obtained from Jan and Suri's efforts. Mugshots of high ranking rebel leaders were passed around. The map of the building was checked for the best locations for entry, and where to block off avenues of escape. Equipment lists were reviewed to make sure they were prepared for whatever armaments the smugglers had made available.

Just before the briefing was finished, Camdar gave his own 'updates' to the Inquisitor's orders. I want them alive, but only if possible. Eradicating the Rebellion comes first. Do not compromise mission objectives for the purpose of obtaining prisoners. I demand your best, and I know you will give it. The Emperor will be watching our results with great interest.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-C2wCcuKmLI

Camdar sat on top of the canyon under a camo net with the ISB Commandos. He surveyed the hidden temple built into the canyon wall beneath him with his cybernetic eye. He reiterated his orders to the regiment from the 727nd over his comlink. Maintain a perimeter 2 klicks around the AO. I don't want anything getting in or out. Rebels' are undisciplined. They always abandon mission objectives to rescue allies that are in danger. Expect some sort of suicidal rescue attempt. His contempt for the rebels was made clear in his voice.

He switched channels as he listened to the last of the ISB squads confirm that they were in position. Once Camdar was satisfied, he gave the signal for the operation to begin. The 43rd tactical unit sprung into action.

2M hovertanks and AT-STs approached the temple along the canyon floor, firing upon the turrets and hidden sentry nests that protected the temple. Mortars at the top of the canyon began to fire shells containing paralytic gas. It wouldn't accomplish much with the winds blowing through the canyon, it would serve to weaken the resistance. Camdar grabbed the missile launcher beside him, and fired at the roof of the temple. He quickly threw it aside and he lead the ISB troopers to rappel down the wall of the canyon. They descended through the hole that Camdar opened up, and they dispersed to complete their mission objectives. Two squads fell in behind Camdar as he went in pursuit of his target, the one they called the 'The Inheritor'.

They went through the entrance of a great hall, and a hail of blaster fire greeted them. The troopers with him took cover, but Camdar charged forward. He held his DLT-19 in front him with one hand and opened fire on full auto. Even while sprinting towards an enemy position, his shots were still as accurate as the troopers behind him that took time to aim with full cover.

Camdar and the troopers cleared the room, and they stood outside the large stone doors of the meditation chamber. Camdar kicked down the door, to see what was inside...

(OOC: I wasn't sure if there was anything you wanted to do with the Inheritor, so I figured it was best to stop there. If you are cool with me having control of this scene, let me know and I will post again to finish it. It Would also give me a chance to fulfill my prophecy... :smallamused:)

[whiteflash]

Jan immediately dropped to one knee while he still had one, and prayed that he'd still have it at the end of this meeting.

"Your Imperial Majesty. I confess to poor judgement, but that is all I am guilty of in this matter."

"My intent was to turn the smugglers to the right side. I could have used them, if they had only seen sense. If they had joined the right team, I could for instance have had them quietly move my team from the Imperial Center to any world you needed us to travel to. The fleet did as well as we could possibly have wanted in this one case, but the day might come when you need us to find a more subtle way."

"Unfortunately, given that I am a former criminal who handed over his gang when they became outright rebels, I was naturally inclined to underestimate their loyalty to the cause..." Jan did not rise from the floor, but he raised his finger to point. "Or to this man. I'm not sure which."

"I was unable to persuade the Inquisitors to allow me to retrieve my notes. The ones that document my findings, that all but prove he was the one who retained the smugglers the rebellion was using. I wish I could show you the numbers, let you read the story in them. But the one smuggler who did show some sense is still on Karvoss II, still giving information to the strike team that is dismantling the Matukai rebellion. It'd be a simple matter to contact the men on Karvoss II to have them ask him who his employer was. And at any rate, you have both of us here. You can see for yourself which servant made an error in judgement, and which is simply false."

"And if I did err in attempting to save the smugglers from the consequences of their actions, my methods still undid the rebellion... and brought you this traitor."

OOC: There's stuff Jan isn't saying, but I think I've managed to avoid telling the telepath any actual lies. Anyway, [roll0] to see how well the Emperor takes this argument.

[tenketsu]

Admiral Samja Dubdin couldn't just sit back and watch as good people were slaughtered. Not without a better reason, anyway. Before Camdar's raid, he reached out to the rebels, offering them sanctuary and escape from the incoming attack, as long as they laid down their arms and accepted Imperial rule. He also promised to back the anti-slavery movement with his influence, trying to improve matters through the Senate rather than force of arms.

Some took his offer and were secreted away to another world in the very stealth dropships he and his 'companions' came here in. He wished them well. Of the remainder, some stayed out of principle, others to make sure the ruse wasn't discovered. He warned them they'd be up against the full might of the Empire, with no chance of success, but only a few changed their minds at that.

Perhaps this was the prophecy that the Emperor had meant. Betraying his comrade... It was unthinkable in the old order. But that order was washed away, and he served the new order now and no amount of wishing or good behavior would bring back the old.

OOC: Can't get the roll to work in this post, trying in a new one.

[tenketsu]

Betrayal of Camdar: [roll0]

[Henry the 57th]

Bel Attar crept quietly through the darkness of the temple, his blue and black clothing blending easily into the shadows. The distant sounds of blasterfire, thumps, and the occasional rattling explosion could already be heard in the distance, and there were clear signs of barely-contained panic in the would-be rebels scurrying to and fro. In these circumstances, it was child's play to broadcast a subtle suggestion through the Force - look the other way. Very few even thought to question the origin of the impulse to avoid looking too closely at one particular dark corner, murky outcrop, or even simply up on the ceiling overhead. Even when they did spare a glance, picking out the unmoving shadow from the darkness around it was almost impossible.

Using the training he had undergone, Bel honed carefully in on the most powerful Force signature that he could sense in this place, while also minimizing his own presence. The sounds of battle grew closer and closer the further in that he got, until they seemed almost on top of him. The Inquisitor, not having far to go, threw off the cloak of stealth altogether. Rebels preparing barricades suddenly found themselves exposed when twin red lightsabers suddenly flared into existence in the shadows on their flanks.

The dark side of the Force flowed freely through the Inquisitor as he leapt right into their midst, mask unleashing a terrifying screech like some mechanical banshee. Two were dead from as many slashes before they even realized what was going on. Another fired off hasty, fumbled blaster shot, only get it deflected right back into his face. Mask still emitting its horrid, deafening wail, the remaining soldiers couldn't even hear their own screaming as Bel hacked his way through them. He was like a whirlwind of red and black, hacking off arms and legs in a wild frenzy of blows. It was over in seconds here, and the Inquisitor raced off, leaving a mass of weeping, mutilated rebels missing half their limbs and in absolutely no condition to fight.

Bel sprinted at speeds far beyond a baseline human, cutting down any further rebels that dared to stand in his way with ruthless efficiency. It wasn't the meditation chamber that was his target, though. He was heading straight for the rebels' living quarters. He sensed the presence of a powerful Forceful being there, along with several lesser presences, all suddenly on the move. But he was faster.

One moment Bel was rushing through the corridors of the rebel temple, the sounds of combat now virtually on top of it, the next moment he rounded a corner and immediately jumped. The Inquisitor flew nimbly through the air, a razor-sharp polearm slicing through the space he had just vacated. He landed behind his attacker and swung immediately, only for his two lightsabers to be caught on the lengthy shaft of the weapon. To his mild surprise, the metal wasn't immediately sundered, and it instead became a contest of strength.

"You would be the Inheritor, I presume?' Bel said, almost conversationally. "The leader of this sad little uprising?"

The dark-skinned human male wielding the poleaxe only bared his teeth in response, kicking beneath the blade lock to strike Bel in the stomach. His armor took part of the blow, but it still knocked the breath from the Inquisitor and sent him staggering back. The Inheritor wasted no time in surging forward, attempting to behead him in a single stroke. Bel ducked beneath the blow and swiped at the man's hand, but he was too nimble to be caught that way.

"But why would you be here, instead of in the thick of the fighting with your followers?" Bel continued, stalking beyond the reach of the polearm as both opponents sized one another up warily. "There must be something precious to you down here. But whatever could it be?"

The Inheritor lunged in with a sweeping blow aimed for Bel's side. Both red lightsabers swooped down to parry it, lighting up the temple hallway with the sparks of their conflagration.

"You have some strength in the Force," the Inquisitor commented as both strained against one another. "But not enough."

Abruptly, one of Bel's lightsabers switched off and that hand lashed out. A wave of dark side energy blasted right through his opponent's crude Force shield and swept the man off his feet. He had scarcely hit the ground before the Inquisitor made a grabbing gesture and yanked. The Inheritor's polearm - his wan-shen - was simply torn from his grip by an unstoppable force. It flew right into the Inquistor's open hand.

"You put too much of yourself into this little toy," he said, crossing the polearm over his active lightsaber. "A foolish mistake."

The man snarled and pushed suddenly for his feet. Bel simply lifted three fingers from his weapon and the Inheritor was abruptly slammed into a hard stone wall, pinned there as if by a hundred tons of force. The Inquistor calmly put away his lightsabers and walked right up to him.

"Martial arts can only take you so far," he said, almost gently, placing the blade of the Inheritor's own polearm at the very edge of his neck. "True power comes through the Force. I can teach you that power if you join the Empire." He pressed the blade a little closer. "Join me."

The Inheritor spat on his mask.

"Very well," said Bel in a faux-reasonable tone. "Then if you won't join me, perhaps the children will." The Inheritor had just enough time to fail to contain widening eyes before Bel continued. "Come now, it was obvious. You weren't on the front lines because you were attempting to escort the future of your little Matukai to safety. Perhaps you had hopes of starting your order anew with a fresh generation of Force-sensitive children?" he chuckled, without mirth. "Since you refuse to be cooperative I'll simply saw your head off here and now, then hunt them down and see if they prove more reasonable. How many do you think I'll have to kill before the rest decide to join me?" He pressed the wan-shen into the side of the man's neck, drawing small red droplets of blood.

"No, wait!" the Inheritor spoke for the first time, fear manifest in his deep voice. "Don't! Let them go! They're no threat to you! They're just-"

"Why should I?" Bel interrupted. "What's in it for me?"

Sweat trickled down the man's face, intermingling with blood as the Inquisitor pressed the polearm even harder into his flesh, now forming a noticeable cut on the side of his neck. He clenched his teeth, looking down at Bel with pure hatred.

"I'll... I'll..." he ground his teeth in impotent fury, straining futilely against the Force bonds keeping him pinned to the wall. "I'll join you."

"Really now?" Bel eased up on the pressure for a moment. "And why should I believe you?"

"I'll... I'll swear any oath of allegiance you want me to take," the Inheritor could barely force the words. "My word is my bond, I swear. And besides..." he hesitated again. "Isn't a grown, trained warrior better for you than a handful of young neophytes."

"So... I let your little proteges scurry away out some secret entrance, and you swear allegiance to me, is that right?" Bel's tone might have been mocking if it weren't so mechanical. "Tell me I'm right."

"I... you..." the Inheritor squirmed one last time against the bonds, then sighed, almost visibly deflating. "You're right."

"Very well," said Bel, withdrawing the wan-shen. "Deal."

The dark Force energy abruptly ceased, and the Inheritor collapsed to the floor at the Inquisitor's feet.

[Rofltrollcopter]

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Camdar kicked down the door and what he found astonished him.
There was... absolutely nothing. The Inheritor should have been here, where was he? There must be a secret exit, search the room. He wouldn't have abandoned his alliesThe troopers fanned out to search the tall dark room. Once the tension of the breach had vanished, Camdar punched the wall of the room in frustration, knocking a chunk of the stone wall.

Sir, we found something

One of the troopers came back, holding the hand of a young girl. Camdar cocked his head in surprise. The young girl was wearing a simple dress, and her face was messy with tears. Her large eyes looked up at Camdar, terrified at what was going on around her. She looked up at Camdar, desperate for any hint of mercy.

As Camdar was contemplating what to do, he felt unnatural and foreign emotions wash over his mind. He felt the urge to pick her up and carry her to safety.

Recognizing that his mind was under attack, Camdar drew his sidearm and shot the girl in the face. In the shocked seconds that followed, a couple of the ISB troopers glanced at each other nervously.

Camdar opened the commlink to the assault force. We do not have eyes on Target Alpha. I repeat we do not have eyes on Target Alpha! He gestured to the troops and returned to the main hall. We still have a mission to complete. Move out!


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In the aftermath of the battle, Camdar strolled around the base. He had given orders to the ISB troopers to strip everything that could have a datacore from the base. He walked around placing demolition charges, going over the battle's events in his head.

Shooting the girl was the right thing to do. What was he supposed to do instead? If he took her as a prisoner, she would likely grow up in an orphanage. She would have grown up to hate the Empire and all it stood for. Anyone who heard her story would have been moved to do the same. Leaving her alive would have only created more rebels, which would have lead to more fighting. More Killing.

He glanced down at the mangled corpse of one of the rebels. This was so pointless He said to himself. Even if they had somehow succeeded in overthrowing the planetary government, the Empire wouldn't have let them slip away. The Emperor would send the Navy to glass the planet from orbit rather then letting them secede. There was no possible way they could actually win.

It was those damn rebels fault for bringing a civilian into a military base. Training her to be a living weapon using the force, knowing that it would mean that she would spend her life being hunted. They didn't give a damn about her at all. They had been using her.

His musing were interrupted by one of the ISB troopers. Sir, you might want to take a looks at this. Camdar frowned as he looked at the body of an eviscerated rebel. He was missing an arm, and the edge of the wound was burned black. None of his men carried weapons that would do anything like that. There are more like these. Camdar frowned. Someone else had been here during the battle. Noted. Carry on.


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Camdar walked outside of the base, fiddling with the detonator in his hands. The troopers had assembled all of the captured prisoners outside. Camdar wanted them to watch.

He squeezed the detonator and the temple collapsed. Thousands of years of heritage, destroyed in front of their very eyes.

In order to protect people, he had to destroy the very idea of rebellion. No stories of defiant heroes. Nothing that would attract attention. Just silence as their hope vanished.

Then if Camdar had done his job right, he would never have to return to this world.


------------------------------------------------------------------------
After Action Report:
....
We completed our primary objectives. The base was secured with incident and the majority of rebel leadership is in custody.

There is one blemish on the mission. We failed to locate the rebel leader known as the Inheritor. The 727nd noted that no one passed through the perimeter, and the 43rd failed to make contact with him while capturing the base. Early testimony from rebel prisoners and intelligence from Suri and Jan confirm that he was in the base prior to our assault.

Thus, I am left to conclude that the Inheritor was killed by the artillery bombardment, and his body was destroyed beyond all recognition. I hesitate to enter this into official record, given how unprofessional it is for Imperial operatives to assume someone is dead unless they see the body. However, that is the only logical conclusion I can make given the evidence in front of me.

As he finished drafting the report, he added one more note in acknowledgement of his target audience.

After all, even Force Users can make mistakes.

[Talespinner]

The 727th was an anvil, unyielding. The 43rd was the hammer that shattered the rebels against them.

The hidden Matukai temple was thousands of years old, dating back to the time of another Empire, in the days when the Jedi still kept the peace in the galaxy in opposition to it. In all that time it had remained immaculate, standing strong. Striking with the combined advantages of utter surprise, ruthless efficiency, and the full arsenal of the Empire, Camdar's forces smashed their way through its defenses in minutes.

The floor mosaics of the once inviolate halls were quickly smashed beyond recognition by weapons fire and the tread of armored feet. Everywhere, surprised rebels fell, joining the temple's ancient ghosts in death. There was no place for their superstitions in the New Order, and Camdar, this ruthless cyber-soldier, a model specimen in the science of killing, was proving it with savage ease.

It should have been an inescapable trap. There should have been nothing left.

And there would have been nothing but rubble and bodies, if not for the conscience of Admiral Dubdin. Because a significant number of rebels were simply not there when the attack came. Those who had been far from the temple, operating in the spaceports and factory dormitories, had accepted Dubdin's offer of sanctuary. Transports had whisked them away to new lives, spared upon making oaths of obedience.

There would be consequences, for Camdar and the Admiral alike.


--------------------------------------------------------------------

The Admiral had somewhat misjudged a few of the souls he had rescued. As he turned to board his transport and return to his Star Destroyer battlegroup, he heard a scream: "freedom or death!" Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a young Twi'lek woman, slave restraints around her neck, sprinting at him, her eyes locked on his Admiral's insignia. There was a detonator in her hand and explosives around her waist.

Ensign Belloro had joined the Admiral's command staff only a week prior. It was her first mission. She was calm under pressure, but enthusiastic to be serving the Emperor and stabilizing the galaxy. Prim and proud in her cleanly-pressed black naval uniform, she had been an invaluable adjutant throughout the operation, accompanying Dubdin at all times to relay his orders and ensure that his commands reached the proper ears.

Ensign Belloro looked between the onrushing slave and the Admiral. She shut her eyes... and charged.

The blast lifted Dubdin from his feet, throwing him down hard on the durasteel landing pad. Pain flared in his chest, and when he touched it, he found three small shrapnel holes in his uniform. His hand came away bloody. Had the terrorist exploded any closer, the concussion wave would have broken his neck while metal shards ripped him apart. There was nothing left of Belloro but her ensign's cap, a hole ripped clean through the top.

Collateral damage had been averted for Karvoss II. The factories would go on. But there had been a cost.


--------------------------------------------------------------------

As Camdar surveyed the cleanup of the temple ruins, one of his implants flared. It was the only warning he would get. Superhuman reflexes carried him into cover as half a dozen PLX-1 missiles crashed into the canyon wall above him, bringing down a rain of debris. The stone shattered under the barrage, and dozens of stormtroopers cried out for a brief instant as huge boulders crushed them to pulp and concussion waves broke limbs.

If it hadn't been for his gifts, Camdar himself would never have survived. He was able to push away the stones that had buried him, keeping from suffocating or being broken beneath them. But his integrated sensors showed damage across his modified body, the plating of his armor deformed and smashed against his flesh, and despite the triage systems and painkiller injectors springing into action, he was bruised and bloodied.

It didn't take long for the elite 43rd to regroup and capture the attackers. Just another bunch of rebels.

But Camdar knew what it meant. This group hadn't been at the temple when the attack began. They had known that the temple would fall, and they had struck to kill as many Imperials as they could when that inevitably came to pass. Someone had tipped them off, someone with advance knowledge of the operation. There was no way around it: Camdar Vaal had been used and betrayed again.


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Little mention was made of the many rebels butchered by the clean strokes of a lightsaber.

As Camdar's report indicated, the Inheritor's death could be neither confirmed nor denied. Whisked away by an Inquisitorial dropship, the Force adept's survival remained a secret even to the Emperor... or so Inquisitor Bel Attar believed. To hide the presence of this new secret apprentice would be challenging given Palpatine's overwhelming strength in the Force, but the rewards... Bel could seize power that had until then been beyond his reach.

From that moment, it would all be a delicate deception, with life and death as the stakes.


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In the Emperor's throne room on Coruscant, Jan Scrap pleaded his case. He was a slumrat by birth, and it was his word pitted against a high-born senator. None of that boded well. But Jan had one thing Ranzier did not - something still to offer. "Spare me your excuses," Palpatine spat, the air itself crackling with his anger. "You did this to serve yourself. Do not pretend any part of it was in my name."

Then his yellow gaze settled on Ranzier. The gaunt human swallowed hard. "Once a criminal, always a criminal, perhaps. But self-serving ambition is one thing. Treason... treason is quite another." Eyes wide with panic, the senator turned to run, as if there was anywhere he could possibly go. The blast of lightning caught him full in the back, lifting him from his feet and flinging him across the room to land in a crumpled heap.

Hand still smoking from the discharge of sorcerous electricity, the Emperor rounded on Jan. "Perhaps you could still be of use," Palpatine conceded coldly. "But I do not forgive. And becoming a useful tool again will not be a pleasant experience." It was the last thing Jan remembered before agony overtook his every nerve ending, blinding and white-hot, until nothing seemed to exist except the pain.

When Jan awoke, the world seemed somehow... different. He lay upon a cold durasteel slab, all but naked. Strange medical droids busied themselves around him as devices beeped and flared. Stretching out with one hand to block the light blinding him, he found it long, thin, pale... and unfamiliar. In the reflection of a droid's dark metal chassis, he caught sight of Senator Ranzier's face... and realized it was now his own.

His new duties were all too clear... To become a more loyal Ranzier, and bring his sector into line.

[tenketsu]

Admiral Samjas Dubdin forced himself to stand despite the pain of his wounds. He waved over another of his aides. He coughed, then from clenched teeth managed to spit out. "Make sure Senior Lieutenant Belloro's noble sacrifice is noted, with my recommendation of the highest possible honors, and the appropriate pension paid to her family. ...And give her a statue in her home-town. A large one."

Once finished with that business he allowed himself to be taken for first aid and later more extensive medical care. Internally he revised a secret list he kept that he could never risk putting to datapad lest it be found and his loyalties questioned. It was a list of those who had died because of him. Men and women who died under his command formed the core of it, but it included every suspected rebel or civilian shot down by those very same men and women due to his failure to find a peaceful solution. He wasn't sure just how many entries the list was up to by now, only that it took longer and longer to recite it.

If only he could gain enough power, he could stop all of this. Maybe that would be enough to wash the blood off his hands.

OOC: By my count the Admiral has 3 Destiny points--1 for his excellent success, 1 for fulfilling the prophecy, and 1 that we all got for finishing the mission.

[whiteflash]

The former Jan Scrap didn't know what he was going to do.

Ignoring the obvious trauma of having his body drastically altered, he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to live as Jan Scrap from this point forward. The Emperor hadn't run out of use for the Senate yet. Jan hadn't changed his assessment, he still knew that day was coming, and he didn't know if the Senators in general (much less "Senator Ranzier" in specific) would be allowed to survive it. But he was stuck on the ship he knew would break apart in space, even though he couldn't see whether or not it had escape pods.

Even if earning his own survival was possible, Jan didn't know if he could do it. His brain was still too scrambled to tell if he had Senator Ranzier's memories, or his own, or a combination of both. And without the right portions of Senator Ranzier's mind this deception was never going to work.

He couldn't even remember if Senator Ranzier had been married, and if he had been then the former Jan Scrap would never fool Ranzier's wife. He'd just have to find ways to be an upgrade, and hope that that was enough to buy her silence. He didn't want to hope Senator Ranzier had been the type to make that easy, but...

And if Senator Ranzier's preferences ran the other way, Jan didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't think he had different tastes now, so he supposed he'd better hope that was because Senator Ranzier agreed with him. (Unless he wouldn't know until he was already in the moment? Jan didn't know how this was supposed to work. Part of him wondered if even the Emperor did, or if part of the Emperor's motivation was scientific curiosity.)

And was Jan supposed to balance his life as "Senator Ranzier" with missions alongside the people who had crushed his rebellion? Who probably wanted Senator Ranzier dead, and who Jan couldn't really blame for it?

Well, those were all questions for later. Right now, Jan knew exactly what Senator Ranzier would do, and for what might be the last time in a while, it was exactly the same thing Jan naturally wanted to do. Jan knew he had to make the most of it.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! AH AH AAAAAAAHHH! AAAAAH!"

[Henry the 57th]

Onboard Bel's personal craft, the Inquisitor was supervising the former Inheritor's transformation. Hair shaved down to a bare stub, minor cosmetic surgery provided by onboard medical droids, and fitted with an armored jumpsuit almost identical to the Inquisitor's own - though notably lacking a mask - the ex-rebel would not be immediately recognizable at a glance to even those who had once known him. The Inheritor, or SA001 as he was now designated, stared at Bel with undisguised resentment in his brown eyes, fists clenched at his sides. The Inquisitor's masked face was as indifferent as ever, simply taking another loop to finish up his physical inspection.

"Adequate," Bel commented in his usual mechanical tone. "Now, follow me."

Bel turned his back on SA001 without a second thought, knowing full well that his apprentice would like nothing better than to plant his sad little wan-shen right between his shoulder blades. He didn't mind that at all. Indeed, he expected it. Even counted on it. The naked hatred seething from the man's soul was a vital element for his true conversion to the dark side, and if he required the Inquisitor as a focus for it then so be it. In time, he would learn to hate those Bel wanted him to, for now baby steps were required.

"The reason that you failed is simply that you invested too much of your power in one overly specialized skillset." Bel lectured the man as they walked leisurely down the ship's corridors. "However skilled you are with your little pointed stick, however finely you've honed your martial arts reflexes, if that's all you know then when your opponent possesses a hard counter to your skills then you are nothing." He paused, allowing the insult to sink it. "Therefore, your first lesson must be to break this pertinacious habit of yours."

After a quick security check, the pair entered a locked room. The Inquisitor snapped his fingers, and walls slid upwards to reveal a truly staggering variety of weapons from all across the galaxy. From Clone Wars era blaster rifles to the latest BlasTech Industries models of pistol to customized sniper rifles, from thermal detonators to sleek dart guns brimming with toxins to highly illegal biological and chemical warfare agents, the collection in this private armory truly had a weapon for every occasion. Including, to SA001's obvious bitterness, the wan-shen he had so treasured, now hanging on a rack like some trophy. Bel strode through them as if musing, before coming to a simple hilt, which he tossed casually to his apprentice.

"A training lightsaber pilfered from the Jedi Temple," he explained, wall armories slowly sealing shut again at his insistence. "Completely different from the weapon you're used to. Your first task will simply be to test it out."

"A training lightsaber against a real one?" SA001 asked, scorn obvious in his tone. "You're that scared of a fair fight?"

"You misunderstand," Bel answered, his filtered voice somehow almost mocking, "I have better things to do right now than watch you flail around. But never fear, I'll leave you someone to play with."

At a nod from the Inquisitor, four droids in the corners of the room suddenly stir to life, photorecptors glowing red. A careful look would reveal what appeared to be heavily modified IG-100 MagnaGuards of the Clone Wars era. Each one ignited an electrostaff, twirling it once in salute before standing at attention.

"Teach my new apprentice the meaning of humility," Bel said, already making for the exit. "I'll return for him in a few hours." He paused just before the doorway, masked head turning just a bit. "Oh, and do try not to kill him."


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The Inquisitor's next stop was by the barracks of the 43rd ISB tactical unit. The loyal troopers had been instrumental in storming the base, and unknowingly providing him with cover for his private infiltration of the rebel compound. It was important, he felt, to have at least a modicum of professional respect for them. Many among the Inquisitorius felt that the mere act of thanking a subordinate for a job well done was beneath their dignity, if not an outright insult, but Bel's humble beginnings led him to feel that professional courtesy helped keep non-Forceful beings cooperative. He was not, and never would be, a cheerful or truly welcome figure, but he was respectful, acknowledging the victorious living and even saluting the glorious dead. He could do that much.

In particular, he sought out Agent Camdar, the member of his team who had carried out the successful operation. When he found the cybernetically-enhanced man, he broke normal Inquisitorial protocol to give him a brief but crisp salute.

"I came to say well done, Agent Vaal," Bel said. "Your efficiency in crushing the pathetic rebels here is to be commended. You carried out my orders well, and brought us many prisoners. It is no slight against you that the Inheritor was not among them. We will break those we do have, and we will eliminate their colleagues elsewhere. The Empire's industries on this world endure thanks to your efforts, and I wish you to know that you and your forces have my gratitude."

[Lentrax]

Suri, her internal chronometer counting down the milliseconds to the arrival of the others and the subsequent extermination of the cult, had her plan ready. She had a weapon, a top of the line BlastTech E-11 rifle. She counted down the power cycles, each time going through the calculations again, repeating them with differing variables, calculating just what everyone could possibly do. She calculated for damage, possible ranges. Anything that might lead to failure. She would not fail His Excellency, the Emperor.

At the moment, one hour before the raid was scheduled to start, Suri found herself in a section of the mine shaft with the leaders of the cult, along with the Inheritor.

47:36.3219239

In one fluid motion, fingers moving faster than any organic being should be able to do, the droid pulls the rifle, flips the firing selector to full auto, disengages the safety, and depresses the firing stud, all before anyone in the chamber knew what was about to happen.

But instead of what should happen, which was death and wanton slaughter, the blaster rifle clicked over to a null power state. Her circuits could not begin to process what had happened before, with a pull of invisible force, the weapon was ripped from her hands. It flew across the room and into the inheritor's hands.

"You are the one piece I haven't been able to figure out. You look like a human, but you don't have a presence. But now, it seems clear," the Inheritor says. "You are some kind of assassin." There was a collection of gasps around the chamber at the pronouncement. Suri says nothing as she began calculating distances, estimating how much force would be needed and in what order so that she could escape without critical levels of damage to herself.

The Inheritor gives a curt nod and Suri hears two blasters hum as their power cells charge the weapons.

"But," the Inheritor continues. "We have figured you out, and are ready to kill you. I don't know what aspect of the Force you are using to nullify your presence, but it doesn't really matter. WE know who you are, and can easily alter our plans for the near future so that whatever sabotage you have worked into our rebellion can be safely nullified.

"You have two options now. You can leave, and go tell your master that we will not die so easily. Or you can die here, now, and let your corpse do the talking for you. Choose."

Suri smiles slightly. They really don't know what is about to happen. The timer in her vision is still counting down.

The Emperor doesn't tolerate failure. But I will go. I have no need to kill you. I have already done enough to bring the might of the Empire on you. I think I will go to my ship and watch. If you will excuse me then, I have things to do. The inheritor waved his hand dismissively, and the two behind her lowered their weapons. Suri then walked out of the mine, her vision counting down the seconds until this idiot dies anyway. The echoes of their laughter following her out of the mine and into the light of the camp above.

10:02.6254914

Ten minutes to go...

Suri walks toward her extraction point.

[whiteflash]

"Senator Ranzier" stepped out of the repulsor taxi and adjusted his lapels.

To his immense relief, the male twi'lek driving the repulsor taxi he had called knew the way to Senator Ranzier's office building, but didn't recognize the man himself. Good. The new Senator Ranzier had guessed that the old one would be likely to have an open penthouse, and the guess had paid off. Also good. Taken together, that meant "Ranzier" could actually try to get a feel for his new role before he played it. He hadn't felt any of the former Ranzier's memories bubbling to the surface, and so he'd need to look through Senator Ranzier's files in order to have any chance of fooling anyone, much less the general public.

"Thank you. Now according to your meter, that will be..." "Senator Ranzier" counted out the money he owed, and added in a twenty-percent tip as well, since he could clearly afford it.

The man looked at the money in confusion, before thanking "Senator Ranzier" and flying off to wait for a new fare.

So the man had recognized his body, and its new owner hadn't exactly inherited a reputation of being nice to people who worked for him. Fun.

Jan took a quick look around for security cameras, servants, guards, and guests. Seeing none, he proceeded to take a closer look around at the office he'd inherited. As the penthouse suggested, it mostly typical of a high-ranking Imperial official's office... though the fact Ranzier's office was made entirely of transparisteel was slightly on the unusual side.

He'd already searched his clothing for the key to the transparisteel office he was about to enter. He hadn't found any, and sure enough, the office had a keypad. So he was going to have to do this the hard way... except, why was he so sure the combination was...?

Sure enough, when Jan tried the combination that had floated to the top of his head, the door opened. That simplifies things.

"Senator Ranzier's" eyes (or maybe just Senator Ranzier's eyes) followed a few extra cables out of the office computer. They led to a large transmitter out on the penthouse floor, that appeared to be designed to transmit through hyperspace with minimal data loss. Did that mean... ?

Jan fired up the computer, praying it wasn't protected by a password. He realized a second later that it likely wasn't: there was a fingerprint scanner attached, and he didn't have to guess which finger to use, since it had clearly marked spots for all of them. Jan completed the easiest slice he had ever done in his life, and started going through the files. As Jan suspected, he was able to access files from a separate computer on Karvoss I, and to his relief Senator Ranzier hadn't bothered to add any security to restrict the flow of information between the two devices, likely imagining that only he would ever use this computer.

Hm. Did Senator Ranzier know to encrypt the data flowing between the two properly, so that the transmissions couldn't be read without this computer? ... Well, kind of, but he was using off-the-shelf software. I should look into changing that.

Step one: personal correspondence.

Jan didn't find anything from family. He had to hope that meant that Senator Ranzier was either estranged from them, or the last of his line. He did find the first true proof that Ranzier was involved in the rebellion on the Karvoss system. He considered relaying it to the Emperor, but decided not to: the Emperor had already accepted Ranzier's guilt, and had still punished Jan. But maybe he could get back into the Emperor's good books by finding information about it to help stamp out any remnants?

Hm. No such luck. The last correspondence from the smugglers was from the one who'd warned Senator Ranzier the jig was up, and said that she was distancing herself from him. From the tone of the letter, she'd been attracted to him, but he'd stayed professional. Well, that had worked in Senator Ranzier's favor... maybe. The man was still dead, for all intents and purposes. Meanwhile Jan was able to find how Senator Ranzier had contacted...

... the Inheritor? Really?

At any rate, Jan looked over their past correspondence. He was able to find evidence of a plan to save some Force-sensitive children the Inheritor had taken charge of, and messages confirming that most of the children had been picked up, but stating that one of them had been picked up and killed by the Empire. The children were being tracked, so Jan would be able to report them to the proper authorities to be trained in the Dark Side. At any rate, Jan saw nothing to indicate a plan to keep the rebellion going, or to indicate that the Inheritor had contacted him since the fight. The plan seemed to be that the Inheritor would contact Ranzier to ask about them if he survived, since he'd hoped to train them in his own arts... but since that hadn't happened, it seemed that problem was over with.

"Senator Ranzier's" next move was to compile a list of the rebels, and check it against the official casualty report.

It was too short. There were escapees other than the surviving children. That wasn't good.

The Inheritor appeared to be one of them. That wasn't good at all.

There weren't enough escapees to restart open resistance. That was good.

But how did these fugitives escape?...

Admiral Dubdin. It had to be. The only two people both equipped and inclined to do it were Ranzier and Dubdin. Ranzier clearly hadn't. So Dubdin was harboring a dangerous fugitive. But why would he take that risk?

Jan continued reading the report, and he saw a special note from the writers. A sizable minority of the corpses had had limbs sliced off by an instrument that cauterized the wounds as it created them. Jan wouldn't have known what sort of weapon would do such a thing, but the report had helpfully specified that that meant a lightsaber wound.

He read through the report to look for any evidence that Inquisitor Attar was known to have directly participated in the attack. He didn't find any.

What did that mean? Was Dubdin innocent? No, Inquisitor Attar wouldn't have been behind the escapes. He wasn't even sure Attar could have snuck that many people out from under Dubdin and Vaal's noses. Besides, Dubdin was the one known to show mercy when he could; none of the Inquisitors had such a reputation as far as Jan knew. But then why was Attar there? Bad question: he had reason to be there. Why was he there secretly?

He could only have been there secretly in order to take the Inheritor. Why? On the Emperor's orders, to turn a Force user to the Dark Side? Or was he doing this without the Emperor's knowledge?

Jan continued to read the report... and it eventually occured to him that he didn't see his informant's ship mentioned. He did see a mention that Stormtrooper Vaal had blown up the entire Matukai temple, which sounded ominous.

I can't directly involve myself in this body. But what if...

I'd need to find a way to get a message to Admiral Dubdin. I don't trust the others to do this. But what should it say? I included a mention of my informant, and what I'd promised to do if I could, in the report to Inquisitor Attar... has Admiral Dubdin read it? It's best to tell him everything, starting with the fact that I haven't been executed...

But maybe I shouldn't tell him that that's an oversimplification...

OOC: To be clear, Jan's message asking Dubdin to give the informant what he was promised isn't going to include any blackmail or other threats, even though he's guessed at enough that he could probably blackmail Dubdin. He figures Dubdin's likely to help the informant just because the informant helped the team, and received promises of help in turn. Whether or not that happens is out of Jan's hands. He's done all he can.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Camdar was lying on the bunk in his quarters. He stared at the ceiling as he went over recent events. One didn't need to be force sensitive to tell that he was possessed by a sense of maniac rage. The shattered chassis of the droid in the corner of the room could attest to that. The consequence of insisting one too many times that Camdar should be resting in a Bacta tank.

This was supposed to be have been a clean op. Someone had sold him out and was willing to throw away the lives off his fellow soldiers. again. Failing to capture the Inheritor was a sore spot, but it didn't needle him nearly as much as the rebel artillery strike. This cloak and dagger business was an uncomfortable and alien field of combat.

When the Inquisitor buzzed the door, Camdar grunted and went up to open the door.

After the Inquisitor gave his speech, Camdar returned the salute in a stiff and awkward manner. He didn't know what to think of the Inquisitor's niceties. He had no particularly for the Inquistorus, pretentious pricks that they were. On the otherhand, he could count the number of times on one hand that someone had actually thanked Camdar. Camdar was still mostly human, and the compliments did slightly loosen his guarded stance.

Just doing my duty for Emperor and Empire. He had to fight not add 'sir' at the end of that statement.

Accusations involving rebels killed with a lightsaber danced at the tip of his tongue, but Camdar knew any accusations would be met with blank denials in the face of uncertain proof. Besides if the Inquisitor had actually cared that much about keeping his presence a secret, Camdar doubted he would leave such obvious evidence behind. That being said, Camdar really didn't give that much of a Wampa's ass what the Inquisitor might have been up to in light of other events.

I would have expected you to be more upset at the Inheritor's absence, given that people like him are the domain of your institution. He paused for a moment then closed the door, leaving the two of them alone. You are the only one I can trust. he said without even the slightest hint of irony. Someone leaked the mission to the rebels. They knew we were coming. There are very few people who knew the details of the op. If the mission had gone completely FUBAR, your ass would have been on the line. So it wasn't you

And I doubt would have called for an Artillery Strike on your own position.

Who is the traitor, Inquisitor?

[tenketsu]

Admiral Samjas Dubdin wasn't sure what to make of the mysterious message from Jan Scrap, his supposedly executed team-mate. No matter how he wracked his brain, however, he couldn't see how it might be a trap. Still, it surely smelled like one. Cautiously he replied with as little information as possible--"Acknowledged."

That accomplished, he put feelers out to those he had saved--they did owe him, after all, and he never knew when he might need to call in those favors. After a few dead ends he was in contact with Jan's informant. "It's my understanding you reached an arrangement with a colleague of mine. He had a run of bad luck, but I'm here to make good on his promises. I ask only that you remember this--there are not one but two Empires. There's the Empire that blew up the ancient Makutai temple to make a point and the Empire that keeps pirates off your back so you can make a living. When you get your pilot's wings, consider carefully which Empire you wish to serve. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

The informant was noncommittal, but Samjas thought maybe he'd gotten through to him. Time would tell, he supposed. He sighed. His shrapnel wounds ached. He was supposed to be in a bacta tank but he had too much to do so he just had some synth-flesh sprayed on the wounds and called it good. After all, aching wounds were a privilege that Belloro would never have again, so he couldn't complain too much. He returned to his work--hiding the locations of the people he saved from Karvoss II, losing them in data trails, flight plans that never arrived, etc, like a shell game almost. When he was confident that no one but himself could track them down, he laid in his bunk for the few hours remaining until morning.

[Henry the 57th]

"Ah yes, that," Bel's mechanical voice gives no hint of how he might be feeling about it. "Since you ask, Agent, I currently have two primary suspects. The first is our dear friend Jan Scrap. Surely you noticed that he was taken away by a special squad prior to the completion of your operation? I doubt very much that it was for no reason. He was self-serving criminal from the beginning, it would not surprise me at all if he had sold us out for petty currency." He pauses a moment, to let Camdar consider it.

"My other suspect is Admiral Dubdin. The man has a commendable service record in some ways, but he also has a history of being overly sentimental. Unwilling to do what must be done." There seems to be a slight glare coming from Bel's yellow eye lenses for just a second. "And it hasn't escaped my notice that there have been some casualties unaccounted for. A Senior Lieutenant Belloro of the Navy died under mysterious circumstances during the course of our mission and received a posthumous commendation from the Admiral." Bel again let Camdar mull it over. "For now we report our success to the Emperor... but we should keep an eye on those two. Can I count on your assistance?"

[Talespinner]

Suspicion. Mistrust. Ambition. All these and more festered in the agents' hearts.

After what had happened on Karvoss II, after the lies and the deaths, things could never be the same for the little strike force. But the Emperor had no patience for, or interest in, the squabbles of his underlings. And it was not long, scarcely enough time for wounds to close, before Palpatine once again called his five chosen servants into his throne room. They would again prove themselves... or die.

It was odd that a Senator stood among them now. No explanation was offered.

"The origin of the cult's weaponry has been discovered," the Emperor hissed, the power and disdain in his voice sending shivers up the listeners' spines. "For too long, corruption has ruled the planet Nubia. They have permitted Prall the Hutt to infiltrate and dictate their government's affairs. Now Prall has supplied terrorists who have threatened Imperial manufacturing. This trespass will be punished."

A massive holoprojector spun up before the throne, projecting a revolving image of the pristine, beautiful planet Nubia. "Martial law will be instituted in the Nuba system, and my enemies will be rooted out and executed. But first, there is another matter." The image shifted, becoming three faces: a distinguished-looking human woman, perhaps in her sixties, with a long silver braid, flanked by two smiling, sandy-haired boys.

"Anora Jazlis and her grandsons have been taken hostage by Prall. The Hutt believes them to be insurance against any Imperial move against him. Jazlis is an engineer of great skill. She is important to my plans." The image shifted again, displaying a fortified townhouse that looked like it could withstand a full orbital bombardment, surrounded by a small army of heavily-armed guards.

"You will extract Jazlis. Her grandchildren are secondary. You will kill Prall. And you will ensure that no more of his weapons fall into the hands of enemies of the New Order." His demands stated, the Emperor turned his throne away, leaving the strike force time to formulate whatever plan they would need to accomplish his bidding. As before, one of them would have to lead the mission. It was up to them to decide.

[Lentrax]

Suri wondered, somewhere in a tertiary command pathway, why the Emperor brought this one to stand with them. But, ultimately, it didn’t matter. She was built to serve, and serve well she would. She was the epitome of her line, the last of her kin from the lab that constructed her. She remembered the testing she had been put through. Masterpiece, they had called her.

And so, the droid, HRD XC-1138, designation “Suri” began calculations on another precision operation.

But first...

I believe that for many of us, our skills would be better suited to use in the field. The exception, obviously, is the Senator. He has an image to uphold, and would be better served if he instead planned the operation.

[whiteflash]

"Senator Ranzier" had hoped that the Emperor would remind them to choose a leader, or that Bel Attar had done a good job last time.

But it had occurred to him that the Emperor might not think they needed the reminder, and his plan if that were to occur had been to wait until someone else spoke up...

"I believe that for many of us, our skills would be better suited to use in the field. The exception, obviously, is the Senator. He has an image to uphold, and would be better served if he instead planned the operation."

"Wait, we... choose our leader?"

And that's as much planning ahead as I could do. Time to improvise.

"I'm willing to take charge, of course, if you'll all follow. But this is my first time doing a covert operation," "Ranzier" lied. "Shouldn't someone with more experience in leading combat operations take charge? Admiral Dubdin, for example?"

Jan remembered voting for Inquisitor Attar during the first mission, because that one had also required subtlety. But maybe Suri had a point that they needed everyone used to acting covertly doing so on the frontlines, and it wasn't like Admiral Dubdin hadn't shown some instincts toward covert behavior during their last job... not that Jan thought it was a good idea to say that out loud.

In truth, "Ranzier" thought he really might be the best man for the job, since he was pretending not to have the skills needed on the frontline and so his skills were going to go to waste anyway. But he didn't dare vote for himself while he was still in the Emperor's bad books, and entirely unproven as far as everyone else knew.

Well, everyone else except for Inquisitor Attar. I love having a teammate who can probably read my mind.

OOC: Voting for Admiral Dubdin.

[Henry the 57th]

Once more in the Emperor's throne room, Inquistor Bel Attar was unsurprised but still mildly disappointed to hear Emperor Palpatine not give even a single word of praise for the successful completion of their mission in short order. It was nearly everything that anyone could have asked for, suppressing the rebellion and maintaining production while tracking down the cult's weapons' source, and it was all done under his watch. He had to admit that he had hoped that Palpatine would take at least a little notice of his success. Still, it was ever the nature of the dark side to see everything purely in selfish terms.

Looking around once more at his companions through his mask, the Inquisitor considered the next mission they were to do. Bel didn't trust the "Senator" for even a single moment. Surgery could alter the face, cybernetics and vat-grown organs could do remarkable things to a body, but the eyes of the Force could peer into the soul. And he found the consciousness squirming around in that particular body all too familiar. He didn't know exactly what had happened, but he knew a self-serving snake when he saw one.

"I find myself concurring with the distinguished Senator," he said, voice flat and unreadable as ever. "I think our good Admiral might me the best choice, as it seems this phase of the mission may require a delicate touch."

[tenketsu]

Suspicion. Mistrust. Ambition. All these and more festered in the agents' hearts.

After what had happened on Karvoss II, after the lies and the deaths, things could never be the same for the little strike force. But the Emperor had no patience for, or interest in, the squabbles of his underlings. And it was not long, scarcely enough time for wounds to close, before Palpatine once again called his five chosen servants into his throne room. They would again prove themselves... or die.

It was odd that a Senator stood among them now. No explanation was offered.

"The origin of the cult's weaponry has been discovered," the Emperor hissed, the power and disdain in his voice sending shivers up the listeners' spines. "For too long, corruption has ruled the planet Nubia. They have permitted Prall the Hutt to infiltrate and dictate their government's affairs. Now Prall has supplied terrorists who have threatened Imperial manufacturing. This trespass will be punished."

A massive holoprojector spun up before the throne, projecting a revolving image of the pristine, beautiful planet Nubia. "Martial law will be instituted in the Nuba system, and my enemies will be rooted out and executed. But first, there is another matter." The image shifted, becoming three faces: a distinguished-looking human woman, perhaps in her sixties, with a long silver braid, flanked by two smiling, sandy-haired boys.

"Anora Jazlis and her grandsons have been taken hostage by Prall. The Hutt believes them to be insurance against any Imperial move against him. Jazlis is an engineer of great skill. She is important to my plans." The image shifted again, displaying a fortified townhouse that looked like it could withstand a full orbital bombardment, surrounded by a small army of heavily-armed guards.

"You will extract Jazlis. Her grandchildren are secondary. You will kill Prall. And you will ensure that no more of his weapons fall into the hands of enemies of the New Order." His demands stated, the Emperor turned his throne away, leaving the strike force time to formulate whatever plan they would need to accomplish his bidding. As before, one of them would have to lead the mission. It was up to them to decide.

Admiral Samjas Dubdin cleared his throat as the votes started coming in. "While I'm of course flattered by the notion, we should consider the overall mission carefully. The highest priority is safely retrieving Jazlis so she can continue working for the empire, and that means getting her grandsons out safely too. She won't be in any shape to work properly if they're not safe. Furthermore, given the fortifications they have set up, the only real way to accomplish it without an unacceptable chance of failure is a peaceful negotiation--and forgive me, but I don't believe any of the rest of you are prepared to lead one of those. We must safeguard them before any military action or they could be killed in retaliation."

"Taking that into account, I vote for the Senator."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Camdar narrowed his eyes at the Inquisitor's theory. Well if I see that damn slicer again, I will have words As for the admiral... that gets more complicated.

He offered his metal hand forward for a headshake. I'll watch your back if you watch mine.

~~~~~

Camdar listened with half of his attention as his teammates discussed the situation. We extract the hostages, then we we can glass the Palace from orbit. The mission doesn't need to be complicated. We can't let the scum of the galaxy know that they can terrorize loyal citizens hostage and profit from it.

We should let our team infiltrator co-ordinate the op

With that finished, he turned on the Senator. Why are you here. He said bluntly. Last report I saw said you were a Rebel collaborator.



One vote for Suri.

[whiteflash]

"Admiral Dubdin and I are tied, then?"

"Senator Ranzier" turns toward Camdar Vaal. "As for why I'm here... I don't deny I made mistakes, with regard to the matter of the Inheritor. But his Imperial Majesty has decided to allow me to atone, rather than simply executing me. You don't need to worry about my loyalty. He has communicated that my last few seconds will be... rather interesting, if I repeat said mistakes."

"Ranzier" turned to Dubdin and Suri. "Now that that's out, I'll understand if either of you wish to change your vote."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Camdar was still suspicious, but the story seemed to make more sense. He was still too suspicious of the Admiral to trust him to plan the mission. Alright Senator. I'll give you my support. I trust you won't disappoint us.

Misread Suri's vote. In the interest of tiebreaking Ill switch to the Senator

[tenketsu]

Dubdin addressed Camdar first. "I'll have no part in an overzealous disaster, Camdar. The Emperor himself wants those hostages safe and sound--that means any risk to them is too much. They have us by the choobies on this and they know it. Now, luckily, I have some experience in these sort of negotiations. We give them some of what they want, they let our people go, and then we keep the deal so the next time goes as smoothly. Scorched earth as deterrent is fine in theory, but it breaks down when you literally can't afford to lose something or someone."

"My vote for the Senator remains. I believe once bitten, twice shy applies and he'll be on his very best behavior. Furthermore I suspect he has a facility for subtlety that we'll need."

[Lentrax]

No, Admiral. Only Jazlis is relevant. Her grandchildren are not primary targets. If we can rescue them, then we will, but the engineer is our primary objective and must have our undivided attention.

[Henry the 57th]

"If we allow her grandchildren to perish, then her future loyalty to the Empire will be dubious at best," the Inquisitor points out. "Every reasonable effort should be made to recover them by whatever means necessary."

[whiteflash]

"I... like to think so, Admiral. If nothing else, I will be on my best behavior."

"Senator Ranzier" straightened up. "Thank you all for showing faith in my attempt to be a better subject to his Imperial Majesty. On to the plan. Now, I would like to handle this with negotiation, the way Admiral Dubdin suggests. I've read your records. You've done great things by talking first, shooting later. But... with a Hutt on the other side of the table, currently negotiating from a position of strength? I don't think we can do that here."

"We'll need quiet transportation to the Planet Nubia. I'm given to understand that last time, you arrived with the fleet, but I'm afraid that's too much of a risk this time. If Prall realizes we're there before we get Ms. Jazlis out, this will never work. We need to arrive on the planet quietly." "Ranzier" turned to Bel Attar. "I'm given to understand that the Inquisition has ways of getting where they need to go quietly." And I'm guessing that you were able to sneak the Matukai we were hunting out from under our noses. "Can you see us to Nubia without drawing Prall's attention, along with a few of Sergeant Vaal's men?"

"Now, once we're there, the two major risks in dealing with Prall are going to be her allies in the local government, and her hostage. If we don't have the local government on our side, or if Prall still has Jazlis when we move, this whole plan might be for nothing."

"Ranzier" turned to Admiral Dubdin. "I'll want you negotiating with the local government, or as many of them as you think can be productively negotiated with. Offer them amnesty, if they stay out of our way, and assure them it's over if they don't no matter how our mission goes. If you can, I want you to pick their brains for details of the townhouse where they're keeping Anora Jazlis. It will make the next two steps easier."

"Next step: we get Jazlis out of that house, ideally with her grandchildren along for the ride: ignoring the fact that they are innocent subjects of the Empire, Inquisitor Attar is right that just letting them die won't be good for their grandmother's loyalty. If Admiral Dubdin is able to get intel from the local officials, Suri can use that to inform how she does this. If not, she'll have to improvise. Either way, I know better than to think I know enough about the situation or her job to say anything other than that she's the one for the job... and that it is an important one. If the job gets done this way, great. It'll mean the troopers storming the house don't have to hold back."

"I'll want Sergeant Vaal to handle storming the house. If all goes well, the innocents will be out of the way, the local government won't step in, and you might even have inside knowledge of the target. It'll make this as close to an ideal engagement as is possible, and you can just do what you do best, however you judge best. If either of those things goes wrong, we'll need to replan, possibly very quickly."

"But that's the initial plan. Do any of you see anything I missed? It's not too late to replan yet."

OOC: So that's Bel Attar for Transport, Dubdin and Suri for prep, and Vaal for the final battle.

[Talespinner]

As the mission was divided up among the Emperor's agents, each felt him touch their minds.

The slicer suddenly turned senator felt icy fingers comb through his thoughts. "You adapt quickly, as all street vermin must if they wish to survive," Palpatine drily remarked, his voice silent yet somehow present. "But you have not accounted for everything. Not yet. I foresee that you will soon be faced with a political matter you had not anticipated. Play your new role well, or be replaced."

Inquisitor Bel Attar's thoughts roiled with suspicion, as should be the case with all members of the Inquisitorious. But the undercurrent of disappointment, of having served well without recognition, festered there as well, all of it locked behind a deliberately inscrutable face and voice. "You are skilled at hiding something," the Emperor remarked. "But someone will discover it, and you will have to choose their fate."

Admiral Dubdin, as always, thought first of the Empire's citizens, his thoughts and code of honor a relic of the Republic. "You cling to the past, Admiral," Palpatine's telepathic voice snapped. "That will continue to make you soft. I have foreseen that you will cross paths with someone you knew in the days of the fallen Republic, someone you feel an old kinship with - but who now serves my enemies."

The Inquisitor's careful, analytical wariness was nothing to the seething anger and tempestuous distrust that held Camdar Vaal in its grip. "Again and again you are used and cast aside," the Emperor mused within his mind. "But I have foreseen that you will be faced with an opportunity. You will be offered wealth, privilege, pleasure, and power in exchange for letting a secondary enemy escape. We shall see your decision."

Suri, of course, had no biological mind to touch. Her prophecy came across the data stream in neat aurebesh letters, foretelling a destiny the Emperor believed could not be avoided. "Without the power of the Force, you are undetectable, the ultimate infiltrator and assassin. But I have foreseen that you will be forced to choose between revealing your true nature and allowing an ally of the Empire to die."

With that, the five agents were released from the Emperor's presence, and the mission could begin.

[tenketsu]

Deciding to put the Emperor's prophecy to use, Dubdin spent hours poring over lists of suspected rebels on Nubia for a name he recognized. Finally he spotted one--Londrai Royclaw. He hadn't thought of her in ages, although once they had been quite close. They attended the Republic naval academy together and if things had worked out he might have married her. He sent a couple of messages back and forth before they agreed on a neutral meeting place, a little diner they'd once enjoyed on Corellia.

The admiral, wearing civilian clothes for the first time in forever, placed his order and waited. He spotted her as soon as she entered--her command presence was intimidating even when she wasn't trying to be. He missed having her on his team; if there was any way to recruit her he'd take it, he decided as she walked over. "Hey there, Sammy." She took the lead while he was still trying to find words. "Hey yourself, Lonny."

"So I hear you're some Imperial big wig now. Got yourself a load of Star Destroyers and even the ear of the Emperor. I hope it was worth losing your soul." She didn't waste any time to take the attack. "It's not like that, Lonny. I admit it looks pretty bad but I'm doing real good where I am, good that couldn't be done any other way. Just on my last mission I saved a slew of rebels from Imperial slaughter." "And how many did you have to sell out to make that happen, Sammy? The Emperor has plenty of beings ready to wipe out the freedom-loving people of the galaxy, you don't have to help him pull the trigger yourself." "That's just it." he replied, frustrated. "If I'm not there I'm replaced in an instant by someone much worse. But by staying where I am I can do everything possible to lessen the damage. Rebellion is simply not possible. Not now, at any rate. All you lot are doing by rebelling is making a statement--is that worth your lives? I don't remember you being so naive, Lonny." "And I don't remember you being such a cold-hearted bastard. I heard about what you did on Utapau. No one with a soul could've given those orders." She looked down at him as if she wasn't sure whether to pity him or despise him.

He put his hands out to his side in helpless appeal. "I had no choice--they forced my hand. Look, you can hate me if you want, but I need your help. A cell of rebels on Nubia has taken innocents hostage--a woman and her grandchildren. I know that's your stomping ground for now, and I figure you know the rebels I'm talking about. With your lofty ideals I know you aren't in favor of kidnapping children, and the grandmother is a non-combatant as well, an engineer. If you help me secure them, that's more influence I have to sway Imperial policy away from tyranny and back towards good government. I could get concessions, things that will really help people's lives like a lightening of production quotas." She gave him an inscrutable look. "Yeah, I know 'em. And I might be able to do something to get them out of there. But you can keep your 'concessions'. I don't need your bribes and the lighter the load the fewer people rebel--as I'm sure you know." "And you say I'm the ruthless one. Can I count on your support then?" "I'll think it over and let you know. But regardless, don't think this means things are okay between you and I, Sammy. Or should I say 'Admiral Samjas Dubdin'? We're on opposite sides of this coming war, and you're on the wrong one." She stood to go, having not actually made an order or eaten. Dubdin's own order had grown cold, untouched. As she passed him she paused to kiss him on the forehead like a child. "Goodbye, Sammy."

Dubdin disposed of his food untouched and left a generous tip for the staff. He didn't have the stomach for it after all, thoughts swirling in his head as he took the transport back to Coruscant.

OOC: So that's +1 Destiny for the prophecy I believe, bringing his total to 4. Does Corellia count as Commerce or Industrial Core Worlds? If Commerce then I think that's a +1 to my roll. I think I can call this a Loyalty check, and if not than it would be a Cunning check. I've got +2 to Loyalty and +1 to Cunning. So let's see what the dice say.

[roll0]

[Lentrax]

Suri bows as the Emperor dismisses her. She rejoins the others.

Four days for transit and to establish surveillance. I will establish a pattern for the guards at the hostage's location. That will allow us to effectively plan the exfiltration.

Without waiting for further instruction, Suri heads off. Her first order of business was to learn what she could of this Hutt, Prall. She goes to her home, a modest condominium in a fashionable part of Imperial Center. There isn't much in the place. AS a droid she has little need for "creature comforts," though she does maintain a decent living area for entertaining what few visitors she gets. Moving through the living area, she enters the bedroom. If you could call it a bedroom. There is a bed, of a sort, almost like a ship's bunk along one wall, cables running from the power outlets. More cables snake along the floor, leading into the computer and communications equipment in the room. Suri disrobes as she goes over to the bunk, and plugs the cables into the ports she opens along her body.

After she downloads everything she can, she goes into the refresher to alter her appearance. Prall, it seems, has odd tastes in entertainment.

Once done, Suri, now looking nothing like what she did before, departs for Nubia. She easily manages to gains employment with the Hutt. She then begins keeping an eye on the guard schedules, their rotations, the patterns they patrol in. Everything is recorded by her sensors. Every night, she compiled the data and sent it to her comrades, allowing them to make their plans with the data.

[roll0]

[Talespinner]

This was once again a task for which Suri was ideally suited: moving unseen, collecting information, preparing the way for a strike that would remove all the Empire's enemies. She identified Prall's main defenders: a disciplined force of Weequay soldiers, heavily armed and armored. When off duty, the guardsmen spent their time training with their force pikes and underslung heavy repeating blasters.

Obviously Prall's ability to provide weapons was used to its full effect in his own household.

There were also servants of all descriptions; Hutts were groomed from birth to believe they had usurped their gods, and almost without exception had a taste for decadent luxury which they forced others to provide. There were many, many guards, but there were also almost as many dancers, musicians, chefs, and even artists in residence. It was easy for Suri to blend into the riot of creativity seeking to amuse Prall each day.

Until the Duros started catching on, that is. Suri had clocked him early on, but hadn't realized how good he was. Fensood, they called him, and he was chief of cybersecurity, squatting at the center of a mass of cables and data monitors like a fat arachnid on its web. And it was Fensood who discovered the unauthorized data bursts being transmitted out of Prall's townhouse. Suri knew he would come for her soon.

And he would bring lots and lots of brutal, heavily-armed backup.


--------------------------------------------

Although it had been difficult for Admiral Dubdin to negotiate as he had, it proved well worth the pain.

Using the data Suri had collected, a bizarre fusion of Imperial assets and Rebel grit was formed. Even as Fensood was on his way to confront the HRD, a different sort of infiltration was going on right under his nose. Half a dozen skilled local spies had wormed their way into Praal's cadre of entertainers. With seduction, charm, and occasionally force, they had used Suri's information to locate Jazlis and her grandchildren.

They had also located and secured keycards, disguises, and a safehouse outside the city limits.

In a stunning gambit that had all the hallmarks of a brilliant former officer like Londrai Rayclaw, Anora Jazlis and her two grandsons actually appeared on stage in front of their captor. They were just three pairs of legs beneath a massive alien dragon costume, one part of a puppet theatre show that was also a sophisticated espionage operation. Praal gasped and guffawed as his own hostages put on a show... and then filtered out with the rest.

Just in case, the rebel agents switched speeders three times in the narrow alleys of Nuba City. But they needn't have worried. The operation had been carried off so flawlessly, with the right bribes paid and the unbribeable taken quietly out of action, that no one even noticed that Anora Jazlis was gone until nearly a day later. Holed up in a serene manor house halfway across Nubia, the engineer and her family calmly awaited pickup.

Of course, if Rayclaw and her crew had known what Jazlis was working on, they would never have helped...

[Henry the 57th]

Meanwhile, Inquisitor Bel Attar was hard at work in his own way. The Inquisition was no stranger to covertly inserting its agents into conflict areas, and so in truth this would be little different. It was simply a matter of arranging for the appropriate ships, whether they be prototypes equipped with cloaking devices or simple converted freighters that look perfectly innocuous. The only real thing that mattered was getting the bulk of their forces - especially Camdar and his men - in undetected. With advanced knowledge that the hostages have already been freed, it was simply a matter of getting them carefully in position to launch a sudden and rapid assault on their enemies.

[roll0]

[Talespinner]

Nothing was wrong with Bel Attar's deployment. He was skilled and practiced at such covert operations. But Praal knew by then that the Empire was coming.

Praal the Hutt had spent decades worming his way into Nubia's government, and there was little that could escape his notice. Now roused to furious attention by the escape of his hostages, the crime lord had every part of the planet carefully watched. And so, as soon as the Imperial transports set down in what should have been a secret landing zone, his troops sprang to the attack. Dozens of his Weequay soldiers zoomed into view atop armored speeders, their mounted guns opening up on the invaders with impunity. It was a withering assault, and many more thugs were close behind, being disgorged from speeder trucks to bring their missile launchers and heavy repeaters into play.

It was a force to defeat any conventional attack. Of course, they had not planned for the presence of a wielder of the Dark Side...

[Lentrax]

Suri began her preplanned evac route. But she had not gone far before she was set upon by Fensood and his goons.

Had Suri been calculating on such a response, she might have been better prepared. As it was, however...

“My master does not care for interlopers interfering in his business,” Fenwood began. And that was all Suri cared to hear. Underlings were so cliche.

She ran forward, grabbed one of the Twi’lek thugs by his head tails, and with the superhuman strength granted her by her servos, whipped the man into another thug, a human. Blasters were firing, rockets were detonating in the alley, and Suri cataloged damage on her skin and penetrating into her duraframe armor. The attack was over shortly after it began, with the thugs dispatched, and Fensood was lying on the ground, bleeding from a gutshot. Suri kicked the Duros, hard, flipping him over onto his back and leveling a blaster pistol at his face.

“My... Master... will not be defeated. But you, will not live to see him succeed.”

He raised his arm, revealing the thermal detonator in his outstretched hand.

Suri watched, her circuits calculating variables. Her software calculated a 95 percent probability that this explosion would cause critical damage to her body resulting, likely in permanent shutdown. Behind her, the engineer was being evacuated, she could hear the next speeder waiting to carry her off.

Her computation led her to just one conclusion. The engineer could repair her. With calculated precision, Suri leaped backward, calculating the distance she would need to clear to evade the explosion. What she didn’t calculate, was that the thermal detonator would roll half a meter before detonating. The explosion knocked her from her feet, burning off part of the skin on her face. Rockets fired, launching themselves at the incoming engineer. Suri watched as the speeder was hit, and she moved as fast as she could, her servos beginning to whine from the battle damage. The speeder struck the ground, aflame.

Suri wrenched the door to the speeder open, scanned the interior of the speeder, and began hauling the engineer and her grandchildren out of the wreckage. Carrying them to the waiting speeder with the aid of the driver and gunman, Suri climbed into the speeder with the three passengers.

When the engineer came to, Suri spoke to her, her voice sounding less melodic, and more mechanical.

En-n-ngineer Jazl-lis. I have n-n-need of your sk-k-kills.

[Henry the 57th]

"This is it?" the Inquisitor says through his mask, somehow still able to convey his sheer disdain through the mechanical deadness of his mask. "This is all sent to oppose me?"

Virtually the second that those words left Bel's lips, he was in motion. Leaping above the sudden hail of blasterfire in a single bound, twin beams of red light had appeared in both his hand before his black boots had even touched the ground again. The first group of mercenaries were shown mercy - he merely stabbed the speeder's pilot in the throat and watched as they careened uncontrollably into one of their cohorts. Red blaster bolts were quickly homing in on him, but to his mind amounted to little more than a light bit of practice. Those he didn't dodge nimbly around were simply batted gently away with the tips of his sabers.

Taking another leap into the air, the Inquisitor chooses to land directly atop another speeder. Before the shocked pilot can even raise his pistol halfway, he is unceremoniously tossed bodily over the side. Almost casually, Bel kills the other two occupants with a single swing and hops into the driver's seat. Before the other Weequay can even get a grasp on what is happening, he unhesitatingly crashes the hijacked vehicle into the side of yet another enemy craft. Both speeders spin wildly out of control, but only one is occupied any longer.

Almost seeming to play with his now panicking would-be killers, Bel reaches out with both hands and yanks. The Force rips two more drivers from their vehicles, holding them aloft almost casually. He flicks his wrists and the two smash into one another headfirst and tumble to the earth in a heap. The final craft, now zooming away at full speed, gets a very unpleasant surprise when a thrown lightsaber slashes across its engine. As its power rapidly begins to fail, the would-be assassins can only manage a wild and ineffectual barrage of blasterfire as the black-masked spectre of death comes for them.

[whiteflash]

"Senator Ranzier" watched with the officers as the enlisted men began cremating the Weequay.

"It wasn't a deficient force, by its own merits. But Suri's intelligence indicates that this is less than half of what Prall has. So between what Prall has left and the fortress he's holed up in, this is not going to be easy."

"Well, we knew going in this wasn't going to be a fun job," one of the officers noted resignedly. "But we have the men for it."

"We do. But I think I might be able to cut the casualties down a bit. Let me show you all something."

"Ranzier" pulled out a small palmtop computer that was already set to display a map of Prall's fortress. At the touch of a button, the two-dimensional display on the screen was replaced by a hologram floating above his hand. "I set this up using a combination of the municipal maps and Suri's reports. It's led me to believe there's two viable routes into the fortress besides the main door." He pointed to a spot on the wall of the fortress, on the opposite side of the main entrance. "The first would be through Fensood's room. He lived on the walls of the fortress, so that he could enjoy a window view. He also controlled the cameras from that room, using equipment it would be a lot of trouble to move elsewhere... so we might be able to decapitate Prall's surveillance by hitting the walls right there."

"Ranzier" took a deep breath. "Our initial attack along this route won't be a real attempt to storm the fortress. We're just going to want to blow open the transparisteel on the window, and fire a few launcher-detonators through it to destroy the equipment in that room. A lot of what we're trying to do becomes easier if that goes right." Jan decided not to mention that he had reservations about this part of the plan, since his own desire to loot Fensood's setup wasn't really relevant, and he wasn't sure it'd be in character for "Senator Ranzier" to want to do that anyway.

Besides, maybe some of the drives would survive, and he could read them with his own devices to gain useful information. So, there was that...

"Ranzier" pointed to the northern wall of the fortress. "The second attack point we're going to use is through this point on the walls. And I do mean right through the walls." Ranzier pushed a button on the computer in his hand, and the floating model of Prall's fortress was replaced by a series of tunnels visible through a transparent plane of stone. "We can't enter directly through the pipes. The municipal plans I was able to find indicate that the pipes aren't nearly big enough for that. We might be able to dig through the walls, but we don't know how far down they go or whether they have any precautions against mining, since neither Suri's intelligence nor the sewer maps have that information. But... there is a sewer line running adjacent to the walls, big enough to get us there without being detected and let us set some charges. In fact, that point is where the fortress's own plumbing meets the local sewer, so we can use the preexisting holes to our advantage by severing the pipes and planting thermal detonators in them. That route into the fortress will take us right by the entertainers' quarters, too, so we might be able to get some of them out before the blasts start flying."

“I doubt it, sir. It looks like we'd be blasting right into the lower levels of the fortress, which is good seeing as it means less work clearing rubble, but the remaining Weequay would be certain to hear the explosion.”

"They would. And they'd probably respond in force. So we'll want to tell the civilians not to dawdle. We'll want the tunnel secure as fast as we can get it that way: we can only keep it open to evacuate civilians for so long. I like the thought of saving these civilians, even if they picked the wrong employer, but it can't be our main priority. We need to kill Prall the Hutt first, and keep ourselves alive second."

"Here's how the attack is going to go, if we get unreasonably lucky and the plan survives first contact with the enemy: we approach the main gate of the fortress, and bombard it from cover with long range weaponry. If we can, we should evacuate as many of the civilians between whatever cover we use and the fortress as possible; if we can't, that's unfortunate. Anyway, we need to try to keep this bombardment up, and from as many angles as we can, to weaken the enemy for the final approach... and to maybe distract them from the mining operation."

"While the Weequay are shooting back, a few picked men sneak up around the rear of the fortress and shoot out the frame of the transparisteel window on what used to be Fensood's room, then launch a few thermal detonators through the hole and leave as soon as the blasts go off. In, kaboom, out."

"As this is going on, a few more picked men go through the sewers to blast open a hole to enter the lower levels of the fortress. A few men go through to the entertainers quarters and tell them that any civilians still in the fortress in two minutes are probably going to die, and see how many take the hint. Presumably, Prall's going to send as many of his Weequay as he feels he can spare to see what's going on. We ambush them, and while they're trying to figure out what to do about that, we send a few men through Fensood's window. And while they're trying to figure out how to fight off the two infiltrations, completely blind? That's when we finally get serious, and send the bulk of our army through the one entrance big enough to get that many men through it: the front door. The men using the other approach points use the additional confusion to move up, and we swamp the fortress."

"Prall will likely be either in his quarters or in the throne room. Either way, he'll likely be surrounded by as many of the Weequay are still alive, and as many of his civilian staff are still in the fortress. He knows his best hostage is out of the picture, and that we're here, so he's going to keep the civilians right next to him to gain whatever advantage he can from them. It's all he can do, at this point" "Senator Ranzier" sighs. "There's no smart plan to use for this part of the job, and there's no way to get the civilians out. We just shoot everything in that room so that it can't shoot back, and hope we run out of hostiles before we run out of civilians. It's a good thing Anora Jazlis isn't in the castle anymore, or we couldn't play it that way. But we can, and I think we have to."

"One last note: our plan if Prall tries to flee. Realistically, he can only do that with a flying vehicle, and he has one speeder big enough to carry him that might be fast enough to break through our siege line. So, while I hate to do this, we need to load some of our current casualties (the ones too hurt to fight, but not in danger of dying if we don't get them treated yesterday) onto the one ship we have with a cloaking device. It leaves the field, with a credible reason to do so, and comes back cloaked to pursue Prall if he tries to run."

So I'm using both Suri's intelligence and Anora Jazlis's absence. And I almost forgot that Talespinner ruled that I could switch back to Commerce-Rich Core worlds as my home region. That means +3, for a total of [roll0].

And I'm sorry I didn't have this up yesterday. I wound up getting called in to work the shift I'd thought I'd traded away to a co-worker.

[Talespinner]

As Suri made her escape, palace alarms wailing behind her in the aftermath of the explosion, her synthetic skin was in tatters, ripped apart by shrapnel and heat burns. These were wounds that would have killed any organic... but she was much, much more. Tall, slender, grim Anora Jazlis didn't bat an eyelash when the HRD approached her at the safehouse, though she did let slip a quiet "fascinating." Jazlis was not a droid engineer by training, but she understood enough to keep Suri's essential systems online. The HRD would survive long enough for transport back to Coruscant and the team of specialists that awaited her there, ready to patch her up and conceal her true nature once more.


------------------------------------------------

By all measures, Praal's ambush at the Imperial landing zone should have been a massacre. And it was, but not quite as intended.

Inquisitor Bel Attar drew deeply upon the Dark Side, and the few survivors of his rampage would remember the effects of that until their dying day. Speeders careened off course and crashed in great fireballs as a swift wisp of black and glowing red leapt from vehicle to vehicle, dealing death with casual grace and efficient brutality. Praal's foot troops, seeing what happened to the speeder vanguard, simply turned and fled. Many of them would be apprehended, or unceremoniously shot as the ran, in the hours that followed. Although the element of surprise had been compromised, the Empire had triumphed through superior arcane firepower. Now only the Hutt's final defenses remained.


------------------------------------------------

Apprehending Praal himself was a job that fell to the man who had unwillingly become the strike force's most complicated member.

Yet "Senator Ranzier" had a powerful combination that he leveraged well: technical acumen and leadership ability. The blueprints Suri had successfully transmitted became a map of vulnerabilities, pressure points that would shatter the Hutt's armor. It was a brutally cunning plan that the slicer-turned-senator ordered carried out: blind the eyes, then strike up through the bowels for the deathblow. And the detachment of ISB Storm Commandos that would carry out his orders were more than up to the task. Armed with heavy rockets, grenades, and flechette launchers, they were prepared to breach any outer shell and then deal messy death in the narrow corridors of the fortified townhouse.

With Fensood dead, there was no advance warning to Praal's forces before the first missiles crashed into the townhouse's window. The walls themselves were more than up to the task of withstanding explosive ordnance, but the small window gradually crumpled under the barrage, permitting enough explosives through to obliterate the remaining security techs in a fountain of severed limbs best left undescribed. Dozens of heavily armed mercenaries rushed to the walls, returning heavy fire into the surrounding residential district as they tried to push back what they assumed would be the main Imperial thrust. Nubian citizens fled screaming as rockets and blaster bolts gouged buildings and roadways.

At that very moment, timed with trademark Imperial precision, the charges on the sewer lines Ranzier had identified were detonated. Five full squads of Storm Commandos dashed through the spray of duracrete and putrid water, storming through the entertainers' quarters and securing the area. At Ranzier's orders, the entertainers were not harmed, though they would mourn a number of dancing silks lost to water damage - and their forced retreat through the stinking sewers of Nuba City. Still, better to be alive and suffer such indignities than die under Imperial guns. Moving forward, checking their corners and obliterating whoever they found with flechette launchers, the commandos secured the lower levels.

Actual operations aren't like the holovids. People die on both sides. But this operation, somehow, went nearly flawlessly. The Weequay mercenaries, divided between the two apparent assaults, were rapidly overwhelmed, cut down from below. The Storm Commandos lost several point men to sudden hallway ambushes, but their discipline and momentum carried them forward. They caught Praal in the hangar, loading his bulk into his personal luxury shuttle. If he escaped, the Hutt would no doubt be whisked away to the Outer Rim, ready to pull Nubia's strings from afar and continue undermining the Empire. The Storm Commandos cut that dream short in a hail of rockets, blowing shuttle and Hutt straight to hell.


------------------------------------------------

"You have done well," Emperor Palpatine hissed, his holoprojected image glancing over the assembled team as they monitored the cleanup of Praal's devastated townhouse. All across Nubia, Star Destroyers filled the skies and stormtroopers marched through the streets as martial law was enforced. Any hint of corruption or anti-Imperial sentiment was being brutally snuffed out; the prisons were full, and street executions were not uncommon. The planet's mighty industries would be fully devoted to the good of the Empire once again, with no profits or products skimmed off to benefit the luxurious lifestyle of a crime lord... or the ambitions of rebels and seditionists who had benefited from him.

"Nubia is secure, and Anora Jazlis is safe. Her work in the Imperial Biological Weapons Division is critical to controlling the Empire's non-human population. I will expect of her the same success that you have achieved." Even worlds apart, the Emperor's presence registered as a powerful chill. The further implication of his words set in: Jazlis's survival, and her continued work, would mean that rebellious aliens would die screaming, their insides liquified. All for the glory and stability of Palpatine's rule. How each agent felt about that dark truth, if indeed they had it in them to care at all, was another emotion best suppressed, another secret best kept from the most powerful man in the galaxy.

"You have earned a respite," Palpatine finished, "but do not forget that you serve me. I will call upon you again." And the image flickered out.

[tenketsu]

Admiral Samjas Dubdin was horrified to learn that the woman he helped save was working on biological weapons. It didn't make any sense; biological weapons were impossible to control and pointlessly cruel. He wasn't above giving the order to kill, even killing himself, in the name of the greater good and preventing greater losses, but his kills were as quick and clean as he could make them, without collateral damage. When possible he made sure those he killed knew he respected them and he left their dignity intact. Maybe that didn't make a difference in the end, sometimes he wondered, but he clung to the idea that it did. He might be a killer, but not a butcher, and certainly not a torturer!

No matter how he added up the numbers, he still couldn't see any path but the one he was on--work within the system to minimize damage, guide policy. But... he started to ponder what might be achieved if Palpatine was out of the way and someone reasonable were put in his place. This was a frightening thought--who knows if Palpatine could sense that he was thinking about it? The man was terrifying and possessed of abilities that defied all reason. It pained him to be considering betrayal yet again, as he had to his former captain, but if the greater good demanded he sell out his integrity again, he would do it. Like everything else about him, his honor was fungible. It was only that he wanted to get the highest price possible. And what price could be higher than to replace Palpatine, perhaps even directly taking control himself? He didn't want that life, honestly even his Admiraltyship was more than he wanted, but if that's where he needed to be to accomplish what was needed, his personal desires weighed not at all in the equation.

[whiteflash]

"Senator Ranzier" did not want to think about what he'd done here. People had died on both sides, and while he couldn't bring himself to care that he'd compassed the deaths of Prall and his loyal Weequay, a few civilians had died during the crossfire between the stormtroopers and the wall guards. And he'd knowingly ordered a number of loyal stormtroopers to their deaths.

He didn't even know if Prall had brought any human (or alien) shields onto his personal shuttle with him, and if he had, those people were very definitely dead. The crew certainly were, although given that they were actively trying to keep Prall alive, "Ranzier" didn't really care as much about them as he probably should. And if nobody besides Prall and the shuttle crew had died in that fireball, it would imply that a Hutt had cared more about civilian causalities than "Ranzier" had; "Ranzier" had explicitly ordered the stormtroopers to fire without regard for human shields.

Most of all, he did not want to think about what his work saving Anora Jazlis's life made him an accessory to.

It was a lot to not think about. More than "Ranzier" had the skills to ignore. Luckily, he had another identity to hide in, until he was ready to deal with this.

"If anyone who doesn't have the authority to countermand my orders tries to enter, stop them at the door. They can wait for me, or they can leave: I don't care which. Anyone else, send them in."

"Yes sir."

Jan nodded to the three soldiers at the door, and then turned to the pile of melted computer equipment... and melted security technicians.

Most of what was in here wasn't going to be useful. Jan had known when he'd ordered his men to fire explosives into this room that it would destroy a lot of useful equipment. But the last time he'd put the mission at risk to save enemy resources for his own use, he'd wound up in another man's body.

Besides, as scary as his situation was, Jan's alternate identity came with the wealth to buy anything that the legitimate markets had. He didn't need the screens that had been shattered and melted, or the control panels that had been torn into pieces small enough to give him a sliver. He wasn't here for any of that. He was here for the one thing Prall's slicer was likely to have that a lawgiver's money couldn't buy. He was here for illegally obtained information.

Jan drew the transparisteel vibroknife he'd had manufactured to his own specifications. (He was sure he could have come up with a real reason to have a transparent knife, if he tried, but in all honesty he'd just thought it sounded like a cool idea.) He pried the melted console in front of him apart... and had no luck. The hard drive had been reinforced, but that hadn't saved it.

Jan assumed, from the damage the rest of the computers seemed to have taken, that the only one that he could probably salvage the drive from was one right next to the window. But he still checked them all, out of general principles. It'd be embarrassing to miss something that might help him just because he hadn't looked.

Still, his initial instincts were right on the money. He was still empty-handed when he reached the window, and the computer right next to it. As Jan had suspected, the explosions had rendered the computer as a whole inoperable (even though their distance from the explosions inside the room had saved them from the level of damage the rest of the equipment had taken,) but the rest of the components inside it had shielded the drive.

Jan shut down the vibration mechanism in his knife. He needed finesse at this point, not power.

Slowly, slowly... "Ack!"

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Just a sliver." Jan pulled a pair of tweezers out of his pocket, and removed it. "I'm fine. Maybe I should have worn gloves, though."

Jan went back to parting the components of the computer so that he could pull the drive out of it... and winced as he got another sliver.

The drive came free... and Jan got another sliver. Jan stood up, placed it on top of the melted computer, and took the tweezers back out.

"Did you find what you needed, sir?"

"Yes," Jan replied as he took out the two most recent slivers. "Well, maybe. I won't know until I read this drive. Anyway, I should reconvene with the rest of the leadership here, finish tying up any loose ends, and then get back to my business elsewhere. Let's go."

The stormtroopers saluted. "Sir."

Back to being "Ranzier" again... for now.

----

It had taken all of "Senator Ranzier's" free time for a week to crack the encryption on the drive Jan had salvaged. Jan hadn't had fun like that since his days as a solo operative on Coruscant.

So what's my prize? A week of not thinking about the horrible things I freed Anora Jazlis to do? Or do I get more out of this?

There were two folders available. One said "Operative List," and one said "Diplomatic Pressures."

Diplomatic Pressures? Wait, does that mean... ?

Jan opened the folder, and looked through the subdirectories. Sure enough, he found a folder named "Senator Ranzier."

Oh, kriff you with a brick, Fensood!

Jan opened it, and found that every single message one of the messages he'd read on Senator Ranzier's computer on Coruscant was in it. He did not find any of the messages he'd sent on Ranzier's equipment, but he had found files of unreadable gibberish that he'd have bet good money could be decrypted into those messages. He'd also found a note from Fensood, presumably for Prall's consumption, saying that Senator Ranzier had recently updated his security. Fensood hadn't managed to find a way past the new security yet, and had said that part of the reason was that the new encryption scheme on Ranzier's communiques appeared to be a custom job, not available on the markets and not vulnerable to the slices that worked on the standard schemes.

Yep. That's the idea.

Fensood also noted that he'd had no idea where Ranzier had found an associate with the skills needed to set such a thing up, that the upgrade had come right after Ranzier had rushed to a meeting with the Emperor where Fensood had honestly expected Ranzier would be executed, and that two of Prall's agents had noted he wasn't acting like himself afterward?!

... Well, at least these two aren't going to be a problem. Now I just need to worry about any other slicer with any political connections whatsoever.

Apparently the spies who'd caught him acting out of character were a bothan who was a silent partner in a Coruscant taxi company, and a human spy in "Ranzier's" mansion on Karvoss I. The very mansion where Jan was sitting and reading this file. So I got caught out by one of my staff, and the taxi driver I was nice enough to tip. Well, frizz.

Before he clicked over to the operative list, Jan took a second to look over the rest of the subdirectories. Each one had the same name as a person, either human or alien. Most of them he recognized as members of the Senate. He opened Mon Mothma's file...

Nothing good. Fensood noted in his file on her that her servants were too loyal to turn on her, and that slicing her diplomatic cables was still on his to-do list: the fact that the Emperor knew she didn't approve of him meant that Fensood was hesitant to invest any effort in it, since he was honestly surprised she wasn't already dead.

Joke's on you, dead man. Anyway, the operative list.

As Jan suspected, the bothan in question had a silent stake in the company that had owned the taxi he'd taken to Ranzier's old office, and the driver had reported to him that "Senator Ranzier" had given a driver a tip for the first time that anyone knew of. Unfortunately, that also meant that that was going to have to be the last time "Ranzier" tipped a taxi driver.

And the spy in "Ranzier's" household was one of the maids. Unfortunately, he couldn't simply fire her, because anyone else she might be passing information to might wonder why. But maybe he could find a way to feed her false information, making sure nobody else overheard, and see if it ended up anywhere noteworthy? And fortunately, she was nice enough to tell Prall exactly what about her new master had tipped her off, so that Jan could play his part better.

Well, the Emperor was right. Being a politician means eyes watching me from angles I never expected. I wonder how he copes? Probably because he's so secure in his position that nothing anyone can find out is ever going to unseat him.

As I recall, he praised me for how well I adapted...

"Senator Ranzier" paged back to the directory that contained the list of all of Prall's agents. And right now, I might be the only person in the galaxy who knows that these people are willing to sell information for the right price.

"Senator Ranzier" smiled. I can keep adapting.

I'm not sure this matters anymore, but "Senator Ranzier" has fulfilled the Emperor's prophecy by catching a couple of spies who'd informed on him, and advanced his secret agenda of becoming a crime lord by finding a list of spies who've just lost their employer.

Good game. This was awesome all the way through. If this game picks up again, save me a spot.