Log:First Order: Cahl Miners

First Order: Cahl Miners

OOC Date: May 10, 2018
Location: Cahl
Participants: First Order: Cade Treisas, Evie Leven, Aenaria, Lioria Thrace, HX-7636, and Kylo Ren as GM

CAHL

The planet Cahl, out in the Outer Rim on the fringe of Unknown Space, is a mining world, a cold, harsh tundra colonized primarily to extract Guerrerite, the valuable mineral, from the planet's crust. A puppet government installed by the First Order maintains a delicate control over the colonists, enforcing strict control over the mines and taking the majority of their proceeds for their own purposes.

Intelligence sources report that some of the locals, seething at the loss of their hard-earned minerals, are planning to take action against the Order's security forces, and Hadren Lowt, a mining foreman, is the mastermind behind that action. So say the reports, at least.

The town where the Vanguard team are inserted is a small one, prefabricated shelters huddled low against the cold landscape, dirt streets swept with snow, and the only lead they have to operate on is that Lowt is often sighted drinking in the tavern here, the Crusty Tauntaun. Their shuttle rumbles to life on the landing pad behind them, shooting back up towards orbit and leaving them behind.

Cade Treisas is already complaining as he exits the shuttle in the spare armor that doesn't quite fit right or maybe he doesn't fit it any longer. "Did they design these any degree of actual comfort or what is group of sadists cackling in a small room somewhere?" Cade pats at the upper arm pieces, then the chest, trying to get used to the fit. "Everyone in one piece?"

It's a small bit of effort for Aenaria to go from Nix the Bounty Hunter to Aenaria the ass-whoopin' storm trooper. Removal of her robes, swapping of helmets, and then a change of weaponry, and she is good to go. Though, she definitely does not look like your normal storm trooper. She looks like a Mandalorian warrior that became a storm trooper and found out they had relaxed uniform regulations. "You know, they give you the option to tweak your armor a bit. Tailor it to your body, better." Aenaria comments to Cade as she fits her helmet into place, picks up her blaster, and then follows along.

"If you like, Commander, I can work with you when we get back to see if we can't find armor to fit you a bit better?" Evie suggests, voice distorted some by the vocoder in her helmet. "An... old friend helped me out with mine, and I still remember what she checked for -- all good here, though." With that said, she glances over towards where the tavern should be. "Looks like if we want to find the target, that's the place to start looking... what's our play?"

Like any good soldier, Evie's more than willing to follow the orders of her superiors.

There is a black robed and red fully armored figure that waits on the landing pad not too far from the ship. The visor doesn't give anything away of course. Evie might know who it is at least. Lioria gives no words and no real commentary to the others as disembark the ship, but she falls in beside Evie and offers the trooper a dip of her head, "11." the vocoded voice intones. Though they follow with the group. They make no move to 'take over' at least for the moment. Allowing the others to give their own suggestions on what to do.

The Crusty Tauntaun sits there, a simple structure of durasteel and transpariplast, maybe three times the size of the other, simpler shelters. In the foothills beyond, mining equipment can be glimpsed, both strip and tunnel, mounds of rock piled up in heaps, a crusher and other excavators dusted by the snow. The streets of town are fairly empty, only the occasional person wandering down them, likely due to the biting cold that even now will be nipping at exposed skin and starting to seep in at the seals of their suits.

"I may take one of you up on that later. If I survive that long. I haven't worn this stuff in years." Cade follows Evie's gaze to gauge the direction and then waits for a few moments until it dawn on him that Commander means him. "Oh bloody hell, I'm in charge of this? Bollocks...Yes, we go that way." He points in the general direction Evie is looking. He waves Aenaria forward. "You take point until we get inside. You others bring up the rear and we'll have a nice triangle to keep me from getting shot."

Aenaria nods at Cade. "Of course." She checks over her blaster, and then moves ahead, making sure she'd be ready for anything, but acting casual, like she's just out on patrol. No need to get anyone riled up before she actually gets there. She'd get to the door and then pause. "I know my way around a place like this. I'll take a look around to make sure nothing happens that we're not ready for."

"If I can drag Commander Oakfell out of harm's way, I'd like to think I can do the same for you, sir." Evie chirps. Orders recieved? Orders will be followed. After moving her hand in a mock draw to remind herself of the distance between hand and blaster, she forms up in the rear just as instructed to. The person in the Royal Guard armor gets a polite nod in return -- she's clearly known to them, and there's no reason not to be friendly, afterall.

The black robed figure stays with Evie while they walk. Because she didn't really want to step on Cade's toes. He had this. She Keeps one hand at the ready, just in case anything goes south fast. "How goes the flight practice with Commander Oakfell?" the vocoded voice asks Evie as they walk.

DV-8 (3P0 Unit 7815) walks along beside Doctor Treisas keeping up easily with the pace of the group. "And what am I to do then? Stand around and wait for some animal to sniff as my feet Doctor? Perhaps you would rather I find one of the local squishies and take them out back to question them with great prejudice?" This last seems to make the droid's eyelights gleam just a little too much.

Cade Treisas nods to Aenaria as they reach the door to the tavern. He turns to DV-8 and smacks the droid in the head. "Will you stop with that nonsense, already? Stay out here for now. I will comm you if I need you." He waits for Aenaria to enter first before making his own way inside the tavern, then stops inside for the others to join them.

Helmeted, and black suited, the additional pilot that had recently joined the team took up the rear. HX-7636 was more cautious this time, determined not to be a detriment to the supreme leader yet again. As of yet he had remained silent, so as to watch the group dynamic.

Aenaria nods to Cade and then takes her leave, wandering the outside of the building and looking for anything out of the ordinary. Its unlikely anyone knows they are coming, or even if they did, would do anything aobut it, but its not worth taking the chance at it. She still maintains a casual hold on her rifle. No reason to spook anyone.

"Deviate." The vocoded voice looks to the droid. There's a nod to it and then they head inside. The red helmed person giving a look to each side and then heading after Cade. Thank god she didn't have her lightsaber yet. Still no orders from her. Not her show. She was letting the commander do his thing.

Inside the Crusty Tauntaun, the tavern is well-lit, and filled with patrons. The warmth inside here is cozy and welcoming, and after the cold out of doors, it's easy to see why the place is crowded. When the First Order troops step inside, everyone stops what they're doing and looks up, staring at the newcomers, drinks frozen in mid-air while the jukebox in the corner continues spitting the maddest Jizz that Ootoo Duuni could churn out, records that topped the charts thirty years ago and hadn't been popular in the core worlds since.

At one of the booths, a man in coveralls is making a pointed effort to conceal his face and doing a pretty poor job of it, hiding behind a glass of clear booze. It's easy to recognize him as Hadren Lowt based on the surveillance reports.

"Of course, the armor's cooling system is slow to change over... Looks like our man there in the booth." Cade says over their internal channel. He starts making his way over towards the mining foreman. "Aenaria, keep an eye out for a rabbit. He looks like a runner." As he strides across the small bar, patrons part like the..well, they part easily. "HX, Thrace, stay close to me."

HX-7636's head swivels left and then right, the hud within his visor marking distances and basic diagnostics. While the target is noted, and whispered about over the comms, he does not look directly in the direction of the man. Instead, exits. Routes in and out. The command to follow his responded to with a curt nod, and steps to follow Cade. Back, and a bit to the right. A wingman even on the ground.

Aenaria makes a sound of acknowledgement on the comms as she continues to survey the building from outside. Its not as easy a job as it looks. Solo, in unknown area, against unknown and potential hostiles. Need to be ready for everything. Impossible to say what could happen. It gets the adrenaline rushing and keeps Aenaria ready. Hard to not like the thrill.

The red armored person...thing? Takes a seat at a table that's in line of sight of the target. But they don't go for him. And it's really hard to tell if they are paying attention to them or not. Though there is a hand on the top of the table that taps along with some beat. Whatever beat they hear.

The tension in the tavern is palpable as all eyes follow the First Order troopers' progress toward the table where the foreman is sitting, trying ineffectually to look inconspicuous, and when Cade makes his comment, something seems to click in the man's eyes, a light of determination sparking there as he pushes up abruptly and takes off. Moving quickly for a man his size, he springs forward, heavy boots hammering on the floor as he makes for the door.

"Rabbit heading outside! Bloody runner. I called it." Cade's facial expression of extreme irritation cannot be seen by anyone, but it bleeds into his voice, especially after the older man tries to catch the foreman ineffectively. He starts jogging to the door, calling out through his comm. "DV-8. Stop the squishy!" It will take Cade longer to reach the door than the armored one and HX, so he doesn't even try to out run them. The benefits of command!

What makes a pilot different is that their brain is trained to function on not just the X and Y axis, but the Z as well. "Roger!" HX-7636 ducks the huge frame of some fur covered alien, his black frame disappearing for a split second, only to appear again higher, running across a table. His boots kicks glasses aside as he moves. Leaping he hits the bar in a slide, the spilling beverages giving him lubrication to slip faster than the man could run. He hurtles off the edge of the bar, colliding with the fleeing target boots first.

Aenaria slings one long line of Mando'a curses like its her last chance and takes off running. Unfortunately, she's no where even remotely close to where they are going, so it'll take her forever to get there, especially armored up like she is. To make it worse, she is partly guessing where he might flee to, but fortunately she had only seen a handful of exits and she was going towards one. Almost... fifty percent chance she'd pick the right one.

A gauntled hand moves across the table top, but the chair that skitters due to Lioria making it move doesn't stop their target and the robed one goes off after the one that's running. "Someone stop him. Preferably without holes in him." she states over their comms.

Go, go, go, run, get out, get out... Hadren Lowt is a man on a mission, a man intent on escape. His boots thump on the floor, heavy on his feet, the blood hammers against his forehead, heart fit to burst from the fear of the situation he's found himself in. A handful of other patrons catch the fever and flee towards exits as well, and outside the sound of blaster fire is heard, which sends EVERYONE into a panic.

Almost out, almost out... "Oof!" The foreman goes down as HX barrels into him, knocking the big man bodily to the floor, his momentum causing him to skid forward. "Oh, to hell with it all! Don't let 'em take me!" he yells, crawling on his hands and knees, trying to regain his feet and head for the exit at the same time. Around the common room, suddenly a handful of other miners, previously frozen in place, spring into life, producing weapons and turning them on the interlopers, ready to open fire.

Oh bollocks, weapons! Cade sees the blasters come unholstered and yells into his comm. "Shoot them!" And he runs for the bar and slides over the top to hide behind it...for cover! "Apprehend the target and remove the added threats!" Then radio silence as the doctor is no longer seen by the others.

Speaking is for others. Last time HX-7636 offered up his two cents, the building was brought down onto their heads. The more controlled in the collision, the tie pilot rolls and rises into a crouch. His pistol lifts from his holster, already firing flaming red bolts as it clears his own body. Two shots scorch the ground just beside the scrambling foreman's legs. HX-7636 curses over his comm, obviously ready to cause much more bodily harm.

Aenaria appears in a doorway just as Cade gives the orders to shoot. "Well, so much for subtlety..." She thumbs the safety off on her rifle and raises it. Orders are orders, afterall. And if they were to shoot, she'd shoot. Might shoot knee caps and shoulders and other such things... but she'd shoot them, anyway. "Anyone who remains armed will be considered a threat. Please, drop your weapons immediately." Aenaria states as she trains her rifle on the first of many potential corpses.

Black hooded robes and red imperial royal guard armor, Lioria stands up and looks over the group that's assembling with weapons. Her hand shoots out towards the jukebox, a spray of lightning coming from her gloved fingertips and it explodes into a shower of sparks. The music grinding to a halt, "Drop your weapons. Leave this place. Do not interrupt the business that the First Order is doing here. You will not be harmed." the vocoded voice states as it stares at them.

When their leader calls his order, the miners scattered around the tavern prepare to fight, but one thing at a time, the will to do so begins to wane. Cade orders everyone shot, HX is already shooting, Aenaria is over by the door cutting off the exit and pointing a mean-looking rifle, and now this black-robed weirdo is blasting the jukebox with LIGHTNING. From its FINGERS. With a popping crack of glass and fried circuitry, the sweet croons of Ootoo Duuni wind down into silence, his hot licks of musical fire going with them. "...and with her Jawa's musk and wide Nautolan eyes, my Jii-ii-iii... *zirp*"

A long moment passes in silence, the miners looking back and forth between each other, Hadren's panicky stare darting around the room, and then the first clatter of a gun hitting the floor is heard. Like a wave, they all toss their weapons down, putting their hands in the air.

"Don't... don't do me like this, we- we mined Guerrerite together!" Hadren demands, beating his fists helplessly against his knees, defeated head hanging low as the tears begin to stream down his face.

Cade Treisas pokes his head up from behind the bar to make sure the blaster fire is over with and assured that it is, he stands up straight and walks around the end of the bar and then back along it's length to get to Hadren. It is a long journey, suffice it to say. "Good work, all of you. Let's get him in restraints and put and end to this little revolution, shall we?"

Aenaria moves about, kicking a few weapons away from people who look suspiciously itchy with their trigger fingers. "Wouldn't want any trouble." She comments to one as she nudges his blaster out of easy reach. "We'll be out of your hair in no time." She states to a fellow who has no hair before making her way over towards Cade. "Seems like they won't be posing any problems."

HX-7636 is not the type to normally carry restraints, though standing up and training his SE-44c on the foreman. Slightly distorted by the vox of his helemt, he calmly tells the man what was expected. "Place your hands on your head. Lay on you stomach. Do not move." Internal coms offer up the question. "Who has binders?"

Lioria tosses a stray credit chip onto the counter, "That should cover the juke box." the vocoded voice states. Then there's a bit of a look around as the visor looks over the room and the others that are left. Well, they didn't have to kill anyone. "Good work." the one in red armor nods to them

Someone finds something to detain the foreman with, whether it be binders or a piece of rope, and their prize is carted off for interrogation and government reeducation. Rehabilitation, to turn him back into a good, productive member of First Order society. With the mission complete, the shuttle returns to ferry them off-world and back to their lives until the next mission brings them together again.

Another mission well done by the Supreme Leader's Vanguard.