Log:Iridonia: Iron Grip
The Sith infiltrate on Iridonia
OOC Date: September 21, 2023
Location: Malidris City - Iridonia
Participants: Aryn Cortess, Tamsin Cas, Bors Thul as GM
Atop a roof, looking down upon another in a section of the city rife ugly, squat, buildings that housed offices but now have been roughly re-worked with duraplast and densifiber panels to make low cost tenements. Or at least low cost for the landlords - the rent paid by tenants is another thing entirely.
But agents among the populace identified the two story building below as one of the sources of insurrection on Iridonia. Weapons had come and gone here. But never any of the actual fighting - even when Imperial peacekeepers were all around it. A large water cistern on a durasteel frame was centered on the roof, emergency water, fire suppression, it looked like any other shab-hole tenement in the city.
But the four hobos on the roof did not appear to be sleeping, and they seemed to have enough refuse to cover themselves fully where they lay, their heads propped to scan the skyline and the streets below. One to each wall.
Kessa wanted this supposed hub raided, as many taken alive as possible.
She wanted information. Answers. A direction. She demanded this be done quietly as well, less it cause an uproar. Sith themselves assaulting what is thought to be local trouble. Work for Stormtroopers at worst. Saber-slingers would draw additional intention and intrigue.
Achlys had forgone the heavy black robes, instead opting for robes in a colour more fitting the native people's of the land. Brown and muted green, the sort of clothing someone from one of the outlying villages might have worn on a day trip into the city. Easy enough to blend into the crowd, all things considered, though the deep hood that his their face might seem a bit much. But perhaps not too much, on a world where such clandestine dealing were underway. "I believe I can see a way to bridge across from this building to the target," The words were offered barely above a whisper, though the comm unit picked it up well enough.
Looking down upon the target building, Kalus' blue gaze squints. Age had not been kind to vision, and as time went on, it made its presence known in many ways. Winds at this height were far from subtle as there was little to block its touch; the dark cape held up wavered with each gust, moving from one side to the next, but never quite settling upon the short noble's back. Gloved hands clasped at her lower back as she considered the terrain and situation below.
<"I am happy to follow your lead, Darth Achlys."> Words conveyed over the voice scrambler of her mask, Kalus hardly sounded female, or even human, at all. Blonde hair was firmly tied back and kept in control beneath the leather straps used to seat her mask around her head. There was nothing to give away her identity in this state.
A speeder truck rumbling down one of the streets throws sweeping light that creates a wave of shadow that washes across the roof and against the wall of the building opposite.
The hobos that are most likely sentries keep where they are, the one on the north side leaning as if in his sleep before a hissing sound begins to rise from the alley below them.
Quiet continues to reign in the Iridonian evening - at least in this part of Malidris. Elsewhere there were riots, disturbances that others were taking advantage of in the short lived bursts of chaos.
Achlys had a singular focus, when they were at work, and they took stock of the lay of the land. A soft mask was pulled down over their face before they moved. The sort that one sometimes used in poor, cold conditions to protect delicate skin. A moment to consider, before they moved to the edge of the roof, compressing their body as they jumped across the span. Not the easiest landing, certainly, but the hurried nature of their rise back to their feet worked in their favour, as they half-stumbled to prevent themselves from falling forward. No indication was given, however, that they were aware of the two figures not so far from where they had landed. Rather they looked back as though they were looking for some pursuer, their body and posture remaining crouched and wary. The direction they were looking in was, pointedly, not in the direction from which Kallus was moving.
Kalus watched Achlys descent, then followed shortly after. Enveloping herself within the Force, the shadows of the night concealed the noble, and then she stepped off her roof. The cape flapped behind her but there was no sign from below what -that- was. She landed atop the water reservoir, making a -hard- kneel that left Kalus scowling beneath the mask. As Lord Bors would say, too old for this..
When she was able to rise to her mere height, the noble found a ladder to work the rest of the way down, twisting invisibly because of the shadows, she made the rest of the descent to the roof, moving with ease and the patience of a veteran not in much of a hurry.
"Hey what?" the horned head of the Zabrak nearest Achlys after their landing. A rifle being raised from beneath the refuse he had been using as a blind and turning towards the sound of the commotion of the sith's landing.
That same commotion rousing attention from the north and east side guards.
"What the kriff, Zonnel?"
"SHHH!"
Three heads in total turning towards Achlys now, a narrow window to act, and to potentially be caught before they've even entered the building.
Achlys reeled back, as a body rose from the ground. As anyone would, if they were not expecting to see someone hiding under a mass of rags and detritus on a roof they had hoped was safe. The sight of a gun did not help things at all, clearly, from their body language. Surely this was someone intended to be prey, not a predator, "He was right behind me! Don't let him find me!" Clearly fear of what was behind outweighed fear of what was ahead. Even the voice, pleading, had that timber that seemed to instill a desire to assist. Not Achlys' normal voice, certainly. Higher, and not at all accented by her usual muun-ish tones. Something which sounded, perhaps, somewhat closer to something from the outer rim.
Feeling her age, Kalus arrives at the bottom, slightly winded some how but managing. Glancing briefly at the commotion, she was thankful for the noise because it required little in the way of moving silently from her. She began to close the distance toward the entrance, hands coming to clasp beneath the unseen cape at her back.
Two figures are up, headed to where Achlys stands - wearing armor cobbled together from peacekeeper field equipment with one wearing Stormtrooper vambraces and the other in crimson duraplast boots.
F-11 rifles are clutched in their grips and the Zabraks approaching are looking to the ledge they indicate, "Miss, miss. Hold on. Hold on. Calm... Tek?"
"I don't see anyone."
One raises his rifle, looking down the scope up to the other ledge, barrel sweeping slowly from one side to the other while Zonnel's attention keeps on the woman, "You can't be here, miss. Not a safe place."
From the opposite side of the roof the hissing sound deep in the alley stops with a sigh following.
"You can take the fire escape." Tek adds, pointing towards one of the street facing ledges.
Enshrouded in darkness, Achlys's descent leads to a window that, for the moment, is vacant while the sullustan inside had turned to adjust a small pot on a porta-hob that was getting their kaf-pot hot enough to begin percolating. Enough time to slip in and past them and to the hallway landing.
The landing that the stairwell Kalus descended emptied to in a hallway made from cheaply raised walls to tenement apartments that had been 'widened' by knocking some of those same walls down.
Within, from down another flight of steps, voices can be made out, faint but it's clear that anyone not supposed to be part of these goings on were driven away some time ago, before all this started.
"Mynock... copies. Flying fine. Negative."
"Negative... Relay... Mynock and Fwit."
Snores from those sleeping. A card game happening somewhere on the same floor and a hush of banter that another is trying to police for volume with it.
No sounds of children. No couples. The illusion of a rundown housing development fading the instant one is inside.
This was never intended to be a call in the fire team sort of mission, despite Achlys' penchant for enjoying a good burning, courtesy of the team they usually brought with them on missions. This was recon and discovery. If they could capture someone fantastic, but it was knowledge and information that would prove the most useful. It was the end to which they had been directed by the Empress. And so, Achlys remained in the shadows, weaving a place where they could continue to listen to and record the conversation which appeared to be going on between the team in the building, and another team on the wing. This was a base, but it was not, yet, determined to be the head of the snake.
Kalus takes a moment to sit upon one side of the stairs, consumed in the shadows. She watches and listens quietly, waiting for Darth Achlys to further indicate they move forward. Teamwork made the dream work.
"Look, I don't care, he owes me fifty credits and he's owed it three games going. He keeps losing it and I want m money back..." a human and an iridonian pass by the pair of Sith close enough that they could have brushed against them if they'd stepped wrong. Settled in, silent, the game continues to rattle on - the buzz of the Sabacc holofield rising at regular intervals with the clatter of credit chits between.
The tock-tock-tock-tock of kaf brewing.
Snoring from the makeshift bunk room.
"Copy Mynock, fly south by southeast. Reports of gundark pack moving towards the eopi, the herd is going to be breaking up."
"Acknowledged. Mynock moving sou-sou-east..."
"Copy."
Silence reigns other than the click and clatter of computer processors chugging along and the rhythmic tone of a droid's access port connection turning.
"Nest, Dunerat actual. Priority. Rancor."
"Dunerat, confirm?"
"Confirmed, Nest. Rancor. En route."
"Acknowledged." the voice gaining a slight rise in timbre and a clicking of controls blended with a pop of static is the clear indicator of a comm-switch. "All packs, Rancor spotted. Confirmed. Repeat, Rancor. Go to ground..." then the rattle of a handset being thrown down in frustration and frenetic murmurs.
Code. Almost certainly. But what the code signified, and to whom it was directed was not immediately clear. More probing would be required. Behind the makeshift mask they wore, Achlys frowned. But there was nothing for the doing but the doing, and they began to move, following instinct and the sensation of life. Trusting to the force to cloak them, as they sought to find the source of the transmissions. This was the fukcrum which might measure success of failure.
Having been able to navigate down to the first floor; converted into a sort ad-hoc comm-center. There's cobbled together equipment being maintained by an old R4 unit, three people at screens, monitoring what look like sliced into security camera feeds from around the city. A fourth at a djarik table with its holoemitters adjusted to show a static map of a part of the city with several blue spheres and red triangles moving between larger green cubes.
While Achlys goes about the task of recording the ongoings of the rebel team, Kalus remains in the shadow, drawing upon the force to regenerate her strength. Old teachings echo in her mind, reminding her that strength flows from the force, and in those quiet moments, Kalus closed her eyes and allowed her perception to be swept away in the rushing current of the living force around them.
"Repeat, go to ground. Rancor confirmed."
Blue spheres on the board begin moving down the lanes of streets away from the green cubes and red triangles. An actual rancor hologram from modified djarik rules tromping down one of the streets and all faces turning to look to the central display, mouths open in concern. Then a clatter of keys shows a street, with rioters throwing firebombs at building walls. Smashing windows.
All turning to see crimson armor in the hologram, approaching.
Silence descends, not even the whirr of the droid connection.
