Log:Log: Rebellion: ID Theft is not a Joke
Rebellion: ID Theft is not a Joke
OOC Date: April 12, 2023
Location: A Sith Controlled planet on the Outer edges of Sith space.
Participants: Rieve Selki acting as GM, Nerys Greystorm, Hadrix Kora, Valeska Kora, Colo Nell, Cadogan West, Eirik, Karas Darkwing, Lira'una, Galen Dawnstar
Cadogan West had gotten a cheap bowl of strikingly mediocre noodles, giving the suspect dish a sniff, wincing and promptly resolving not to smell the stuff again as his pale blue eyes take in the walled facility across the street. Idly chewing his food (sure it was drek, but it was *paid for*) the lean young spacer waits for a lull in speeder traffic.. which doesn't take long in this backwater, and crosses the street toward the gate, and looks for the nearest guard, calling, "Hey. Impound yard, yeah?"
---
Valeska doesn't look like herself today. The crimson and purple Mandalorian armor she has been wearing for years and years has--gasp!--been left behind. As odd as she feels without it, this mission calls for for something darker and more personal. Not wishing to stir up trouble for her clan, Valeska has gone full Trooper but the colors of her armos mean the same as they do for any Mando: black for justice and navy blue for fighting for a cause. She is mostly black with hints of that blue, the paterns forming the abstract form of a shriek-hawk that touches her legs, arms, check and back.
<<"Rekkin' bastards. I didn't want to get involved. They forced my hand.">> She mumbles on the inner communications, her software tracking some of the patrols. <<"Three on the perimeter marching in unhurried step. Evenly spaced. Two more nearer the compound. No sign of their superior. Their lines are muddled, though. Going too fast... too slow. There is a gap in their patrol. A blindspot we can get through.">>
---
There were much worse places for noodles than this drab little stall on a drab little world. The galaxy explorer and cosmic spelunker would tell you at great length, if you let her, of all of the recipes and concoctions she had sampled in her long, long, life. She did not, however, do that now. Now, she simply ordered a second serving and tucked up, turning away to lean on whatever served as a standing post as she worked on finishing with gusto. A waft of something on the wind caused her to turn and adjust her angle of leaning. Her voice was low on the comms, as the helmet has been pushed up to allow mouth to noodle interaction. <<"Only one entrance that I can see. The main axis point protected by duracrete barriers. The walls are coated in razor wire, but I can just make out a spot at the rear where the wire's been worn down and not replaced."
---
Galen had come along with one of the younger members of his group and is dressed to impress... the shadows. Dressed in a shadowsuit with a rifle slung off behind him for the moment he's watching the compound from some nice shadows... And watches. After a moment he keys up the comms for the rest of the team he's here to work with, <<"I count three guards equally spread bout on the outer perimeter and it looks like a supervisor just inside the compound. I can't quite make out much else about that one. How do we want to approach this?">>
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<< "This is SO MUCH FUN." >> It was the young voice of the little lavender Twi'lek that had come with Galen in the all-black CNG Specialist Armor with the dark (Steam) purple trim. Lira's leaning up against one of the walls of the office building, using a conveniently industrial-decorative jut-out to keep her out of sight of the patrols, wearing a stun baton on her hip with her other random pouches and a pretty stock-looking H-11 Blaster Rifle slung on her back. She's also wearing the light helmet with her lekku hanging out of the back. << "Sorry. Going quiet." >> So, not a professional, then. Was just /anyone/ allowed to respond to these wanted ads? Maybe. She tries to peek. Sees nothing, leans back in.
---
For a man of his size to go unnoticed is a work skill, to put it mildly. In full armor and tucking himself into shadows, shifting with them and surrounding directions - Al'Verde Kora has slid himself into a small alcove and allowed windblown flotsam to provide him the urban version of natural camouflage.
Mentally tallying his blades, explosives and other assorted hand-weapons should the circumstances go poorly. The others should be more than enough to infiltrate this place. But he wanted to be on sight to provide insurance. So much so that his only indication of being on site and in a position to assist being two clicks on his mic and a momentary flash of his IFF for those who know his frequencies.
---
Colo's always been more a planner, one imbued with more patience than most and this little anti-Sith job calls for far more legerdemain than it does wetwork. Knowing what he does of the Sithian situation, he takes on a position as an unpaid apprentice at the understaffed noodle-hut, ostensibly under the guise of learning the trade and turning his life around. It's not many days, then, before the troopers get used to his presence and he gets used to spotting their patterns.
And, lo, the day before, one of the feastier of the troopers is deliberately over-fed. On the house and all. Just ignore the fact he's placed a little extra in the meal this time that makes the guard sluggish, lethargic, and wishing he were anywhere but here. Colo, ever-so-helpful, assists in getting him back whence he came from, albeit absent his spare security card. He's still in his, er, NoodleMeister outfit--flat cap, bib, and crustacean-themed apron, when he settles in beside Valeska with a subtle nudge at her and a flick upwards of the card like he's won a crane-game prize. "Right, so, this thing reeks of grease, but..."
---
Once again Eirik finds himself in a situation that he probably wouldn't have initially been involved in. But bored and seeking some sort of excitement he found his way here, besides who doesn't want to help a cause right??? He stays quiet and off the coms for now listening for and to the chatter going on. He stays in the shadows as best as he can though seems he was spotted and returns the nod before continuing on and fading into the shadows as best he can
---
Having brought his freighter and landing with the team, Karas is aware of the others who are supposed to be here. Not knowing the number he quickly moves, it's been a while since he's done ground missions, but hey here he is. His comm link is in his ear, and the throat mic is secure on him. His blaster pistol is secured in it's holster for now. Using his surroundings and the terrain, he quickly moves until he's near one of the outer walls, moving into position to help with keeping an eye on the patrols.
---
Cadogan West's lip curls into a crooked smile. "Whether he scraps the lot, or sells 'em whole, smart bet is he'll be looking to wring every credit out to upgrade the.." A look around the little port. "The everything, aye? Thanks, Sarge," a lazy 'salute' is sketched with the utensil he's using to eat the horrible, greasy, likely-made-by-a-spy noodles. He walks inside, reflexively glancing about the inner courtyard, before checking over the impounded machinery. "Speeders aren't too bad off, are they?" he muses to himself, recognizing one of the models, a d drawing out a datapad to search up the other one. Setting the bowl of noodles atop one engine assembly, he tries to pop the casing off to see if the inner machinery looks ready to run. "Not half bad, eh." Hmm. He calls back toward the sergeant, "Ever get a swoop come through here, do you? Those always auction well.."
---
Stationed on the third floor of the abandoned office building, if you ignore the vagrants that built a tent city on the second and first floors, Valeska is in the process of setting up her sniper rifle's bi-pod when Colo slips in next to her. An old desk provides what covers she needs and should she need to get down to the ground quickly, it's only a quick jump atop the noodle house's roof then the ground. No problem.
Colo flicks his card up in that way that only true gamblers do out of sheer habit. As if he's showing a winning hand. "It does reek of grease," she comments, her visor up so that she can peer down her scope, turning on the EZ-Snap's targetting computers. "You've got fast hands, cyare. How quick are your feet? You didn't eat any of those horrid noodles, did you?"
Satisfied with her rigging, Valeska sends the patrol tracking to Colo and the rest of the crew who are synced up to her frequency. "Hadrix is out there somewhere, yeah? Doing what he does best. Head out whenever you're ready. I've got your back."
After an affectionate pat on Colo's knee, Valeska settles back into her position and clicks on the communications. <<"Naga at Overwatch. Eyes on the external threats. Got one guard sluggish on--">> Sniff sniff. Colo /does/ smell of the stuff <<"--noodles. Engage the mission when ready.">>
---
The second serving of noodles finished, Nerys set the bowl back onto the stack of dirty empties (like a good citizen) and slipped back into the streets of the town. She moved with her usual ease, looking none the worse for wear after that sacrifice for the greater good (the noodles really were terrible), and meandered a back towards the rear of the impound lot, headed in the eventual direction of the place in the wall where the duracrete was crumbled and the wire was worn down as a result. A cutter was removed from an armor pocket, turned back around and tucked in against her palm. Nothing to see here.
---
Galen settles into his spot just a bit looking over at Lira, "Looks like most of the team is settling into ways of getting into the building. You can join them if you'd like but I'm going to work on setting up a distraction for their escape path. Gotta make sure that everybody gets out right?" He looks over the buildings and whatnot, "I'm thinking those crumbling buildings might be easy to push over. And perhaps the offices over there with all the windows. Although for that I'd prefer a concussive blast to shoot the glass out as a distraction." <<"Setting up somethin to draw attention towards the front of the compound. Just ring if you need it."
---
Just lean casual, Lira. Just lean casual. Or, you know... bounce around like you've had too many cups of caff. Whatever. At least no one could really see her except for Galen. Right?
"Psh. I'm not leaving you. What if you need me to save your butt?"
Big, bright blue eyes glow and her smile broadens, looking over at the buildings he pointed out. "We could always just shoot one of the guards and run like drek. That'll cause a distraction." She's grinning. Is she serious? Maybe. "You're the boss. I'll just be your friendly neighborhood acrobat. Put me where you want me."
---
Settled still, laying down partially like a wastrel to let detritus gather, to further place him beneath notice. Gripper, tucked into her port scrolls text across the big man's HUD, pestering for information and getting code to hush via careful shifts of Hadrix's neck to move his gorget.
Watching, waiting, ready to spring if the moment requires it. Distraction. Hard-Exit... demolitions.
It's a good thing he left the kids on the Resolve. They'd have found a way to sneak along and having his son and daughters mucking about wasn't quite what he was planning for right now.
'We don't need to be quiet like this.'
'Quiet.'
'Look at them, they're not Stormtroopers. We were the pinnacle. We could go in and bring them a real war. Our war. Let the rebels take from the ruins.' the voice was his and not, a beast's voice filled with barely contained bloodthirst, straining its leash.
'Be quiet.' He had to concentrate, keep watch. He couldn't be having these arguments now. Not when he might be needed, slim chance of it or not. Now wasn't the time for the Old Anger to begin bubbling.
But it'd been a slow week.
---
"It's good grease, uj'alayi," Colo playfully chides back to Valeska with only a slight glint in his eyes and a tilt of his terrible noodle-hat. "I had the good noodles, you know me. Never too many to slurp down." With but a pat to his exercise-refined abdomen, he at least proves he didn't have too much this week. The pat to his knee is enough to send him to work again. The Corellian leans in to peck at Valeska's fore-helmet and then slithers off in his apron to weave a good lie.
It's actually a little too good. He shows up to the front gate with an apology-pot, much to the skeptical eye of the guard on duty who fishes for his blaster a little too slowly to avoid the fate of noodle-stink. "Hail, yes, just me again, Werda Vheet. We had too much at the noodle stand today. Way too much. Um, but there's also the catering event tomorrow? I needed to talk over some details with you. It's very important we get the precise weight and height of all involved for maximum protein delivery." The guard's visor somehow darkens through the inquiry, much to Colo's delight. "What do you mean you don't have those files on hand? Well, call your sergeant, he'll know!" He won't. No one on the base will, in fact, and that will just open Colo to the next branch of the tale, Coming Soon(TM).
---
Eirik takes his time moving about the area. He takes advantage of the minor distraction caused by Colo and sticks along the perimeter, keeping his eyes peeled and looking for any sign that something may go sideways.
---
Keeping out of sight for now, Karas peeks around the corner of the wall he's hiding behind. He was wondering why he was smelling noodles, and he ducks back so not to get caught, but as he does he hears his own stomach growl. 'Oh hush you damn'it. I know we should've ate before leaving.' he mumbles to himself as he rubs his stomach, now wanting something to eat.
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Cadogan West nods with a backward wave toward the sergeant, "Don't dread none, will put it back just as it was.. if'n they'll run, it fetches a better price- much better than the scrap rate, y'can be bloody well sure-" A blocked conduit on one engine.. An iffy electrical junction on the other.. both problems could be bypassed, he figures, spending more time and attention on the left hand speeder.
---
From her perch in the office building, Valeska has a view of the overall playing field. A chance to catch issues before they happen, or to try to intercept disaster. This means, however, she can't do much to prevent them personally without pulling a trigger. But what she /can/ do is provide some eyes on the ground . Mainly her attention is on the cluster of potential hostiles over by the gates where Colo and Cadogan are spinning their various yarns. Valeska has her crosshairs right on the Sergeant's head, finger resting on the trigger but not pressing. Just waiting for... one wrong move...
Something catches her eye, her finger moves to rest next to the trigger and the movements of one of the guards raises the proverbial alarm. <<"Ground team, be warned. Guard approaching along the back wall at two-step. Infiltration at risk.">> Valeska pauses a moment, considering her options; scanning the large area in front of her. A shot would blow this all to hell. However... <<"Ori'vod. Sending you coordinates. Neutralize.">>
Not so much an order as an... invitation.
---
There was situational awareness enough for the red-haired humanoid to reach the wall. The cutting tool was flipped back around in hand and the wires released from what little tension they still held. Then it was a matter of a hand here, a foot there, and a push off to vault and flip herself over the wall. Maximum effort for minimum disturbance to the loose and crumbling stone.
As Nerys came down into the shadow of building, a hand activated the shadow field build into her armor, silent plates activating to add a shimmer of darkness to her form as she crouched low, hugging the wall. Wearing gloves, she had not really noticed the grease on the card, but rubbing it on her armor to warm it up, something like using it as a fidget token, took care of most of that. One would hope.
---
Galen gives one more glance around the front then lets out juuuust a hint of a sigh, "Such potential for antics up here. But instead lets head to the back it seems to be a weak point." He slips from the perch he'd settled into as he moves with surprising silent grace for an old man as he moves to the rear of the compound keying up his comms to the team, <<"For anybody interested in the front area still.. Some interesting locations to prep a distraction for the guards. Lots of windows overlooking the front gate would be quite a show if a concussive force made them shatter.">>
---
<< "Copy Naga. Tails en-route!" >> Spoken into the whisper mic /exactly/ like a child playing Sith-and-Jedi on her back yard at home. Was there a /giggle/ at the end of that? Regardless, Lira sticks close close to Galen, moving quickly and quietly towards the back. "Distract or take-down. Your choice," the Twi'lek girl says, still smiling. She does grab the stun baton off of her belt, though, and adjust the grip so she was ready to hit the button and cause some damage. If needed, of course.
Neutralize.
---
Eyes lifting from his HUD lower reads, the glowing red pupil of his bionic eye narrows to a pin-prick. Mouth twisting into a stern arch. Turning on a sort of 3 point stance before he pushes off. Taking off at speed, his attempts to keep to soft footpaths falling short of the intended mark and heavy thud of rapid footfalls and the clatter of Mandalorian Iron plates resulting from the jostling movement gives warning of his approach.
Rounding a corner, right arm raising with a two foot blade extending and humming at hypersonic vibration. There's enough time for eyelets to meet visor before the big man leaps forward into a roll to bring himself within the trooper's reach. Left hand grabbing their belt as he begins to rise, blade driving twice through plastoid armor, coming away with fantails of blood flashing across his chest plate and the third shrieking across armor plates.
There's a growl from beneath the helmet, wet and predatory.
---
"MAXIMUM!" Colo expounds, much to the bemusement of the guards. Venn and Yollo seem like stalwart, Sithian sods, but they're still servants of the Sith and so sustain the stalling sloth that Colo spouts. "How in the Maker's name can you keep up such a taxing, er, task when you're not properly proteined?" He verbs. "This is about -nutrition-!"
Finally, the Sergeant trundles over and leaves him ever further in his faux-exasperation. "Finally, some semblance of Sithvilization," He sneaks in, ignoring any glares he might get over his choice of words. Colo's eyes obsequiously dart towards his pot rather than the Sergeant's visor. "Ah, good sir, are you who I have to speak to about the catering tomorrow, then? These fellows--steadfast though they are--know nothing about the health files I requested last week. Your commander, Di' Kut, I believe it was, told me to come by and..." He rambles on and on, refusing to be interrupted while in the clutches of a good bullshavit. A minor bit of confidence comes, naturally, from knowing a variety of Mandos are backing him up, nevermind the efforts of Nerys whom he spies slithering over the wall. His eyes expertly dart back to the departing Sergeant, but end up settling upon the guards themselves who will hear a bit more of the Good Word.
---
Spying Hadrix struggling Eirik takes a rout through the shadows Raising his Stun-net rifle taking aim and firing, thankfully a quiter weapon of his, but the net goes wide missing both the guard and Hadrix. <<"Frak how'd I miss at this range.">> He says quietly to himself waiting for the inevitability that he'll now be spotted.
---
Karas moves along the wall, he's able to see whats going on for the most part and keeping crouched Karas takes in the Sith Troopers, but as he does, he moves so that he's able to get a better vantage as he sees the other set of troopers. He is about to speak into his comm link when he hear a dull thud. He drops back out of sight, he wasn't sure what the kriff that was, but he toggles his throat mic. <<This is Valk, there is one trooper that's not accounted for.>> he pauses and looks around again. <<I've not seen them around outside, so there may be a trooper in the building. Inside team, keep an eye out.>> he says into his link in a low tone.
---
"Look... you... we haven't time for any of this, are you done making all your notes and such?" The Sergeant bellows at Cadogan, waving a hand towards the yoof! One of those fancy pod-racers no doubt, there's nothing quite like pod-racing as they say. Well some say. Kind of. The Sergeant glances upwards, turning his gaze from Cadogan to the back of the compound as a dull thump of something erupts, the noise bouncing off the walls. For the moment, Nerys would find herself obscured from the Sergeant's vision due to a few boxes and the doorway shadows. The card she has in her possession giving her access to the door. There's a simple swipe panel that merely needs the card in close proximity.
Colo's noodle nation indeed has two troopers enthralled, they are unable to pull themselves away from the promise of something other than awful ration bars. The talk, the talk is the talk to beat all talks. Why one even reaches out to lightly punch Colo's shoulder. "Seriously, you are going to make our day... when Rennfi circles about, he's going to love hearing about all this. I mean with his new family, and his twins? Why I suppose there'd be room to sneak him a few extra for his family right? He works hard enough and I know his wife loves noodles, they've known eachother since forever... sweethearts." One can almost sense the smile behind the helmet as they speak highly of Rennfi.
Rennfi can feel the blood building in his lungs, he manages a garbled gasp but the voice comms simply fail to pick up the garbled and liquid noise that Rennfi makes. He struggles to fight back, punching and kicking, and tussling with Hadrix, even as a net flies by, emigrating to some far distant place, a place where stun nets go for the winter. Rennfi can feel his life slipping away, his under armour feels wet. Warm. Sticky. His vision is growing black...
---
Cadogan West glances over his shoulder to peer toward the gate, perplexed. Under his breath, the lean young man mutters, "How in the screaming Hell can any body talk so much about such drek noodles?" With a shake of his head, he turns back to the speeder, replacing the cowling in its proper place with a metallic clatter. As the bellowing Sergeant stalks his way, the troublesome youth rises from his crouch, rolling his shoulders one at a time, and getting a pop from the tilt of his neck. He freezes for a split instant, eyes narrowing as he hears.. a weapon discharge? Abruptly turning around to address Moxx, he begins talking immediately, "Arright, just about done, yeah? But good news, these junkers are in better shape than you thought. Now the scrap rate for speeders this size ain't but 200 credits or so, yeah? But I figure I can get it running nice and smooth, so it'd be worth.. let's say 1,500. Then you can pass them credits on to whoever needs to have 'em, yeah?" Please don't use rockets, please don't use rockets, please don't use rockets-
---
Valeska is unmoving in her little nest under the desk, observing with a tense concentration. Splitting her attention between the engagement at the gates where her husband is playing the greasiest spoon and the guard who is quickly walking towards his doom. Hey, that rhymes! Valeska's finger returns to the trigger, crosshairs still following the Sargeant's juice melon he calls a head.
<<"Enemy neurtalized.">> It counts. <<"Infiltration, you are clear of external threats. Report.">> Things are starting to get a little tangled with people moving too far, too quickly. At least for Valeska's liking. Leaned up against the edge of her broken window, the end of her rifle just barely floating above it, the older woman grits her teeth with growing apprehension. <<"Overwatch. Things are getting squirrel. The Sargeant is on pins and needles to sound and movement. Be advised: if he triggers before the mission is over, we are looking at an exfil.">> Wouldn't be the first time a mission is slap-dash finished at the end.
---
Nerys was frowning. Deeply frowning at the commotion that was going on behind and all around her. And in such a situation, Nerys did as she always did in situations such as these. She got to the next screen. A quick slide of the card keyed open the door, and she made use of skill, experience, and her own good self (and armor) to slip inside.
The sound of the door sealing behind her rang out with a sharp finality. But not for her. Freed of the eyes of any sentients she cared about wearing her mask with, the red-headed space raider who had been crouched just beyond the door receded, and the droid rose, moving with engineered speed and absolute ruthlessness. If mercy was a trait of all natural born sentients, looking for it in one who had had no natural birth was an exercise in futility. She moved with a feline grace as the dagger she had slipped into her grip sank into the hapless trooper's chest, strength driving the blade deep, the slickness of the blood that bloomed out like oil, allowing her to pull the blade free and sink it into his throat and then, for the coup de grace, upward through his jaw and into his brain. The blade, tugged free with a bit more effort this time, remained in her hand, as she allowed her vision the fraction of time it needed to adjust to allow her to locate the required ID cards. <<"I am inside.>>
---
Galen moves to the wall looking over towards Hadrix and his guard he's handling before he preps for a quiet jump up onto/into the compound his shadowsuit soaking up most of the sound he's trying hard to avoid making. Just before his upward movement begins he does point over towards Hadrix, "Lira give them a hand in cleaning that all up there will be another guard circling around shortly. Then meet me up there." He points to the roof of the compound itself." Then he's up up and... Not as away as he planned but if it looks stupid and it works? Then not stupid.
---
In the span of just a few days, Lira'una had fast-roped (well, fast-telekinesis'd) into a hot combat zone full of Sith troopers, gotten shot, nearly gotten kidnapped in an alley, and was /now/ invading a Sith base that a FREAKING MANDALORIAN was wrestling with a guy behind. Like, a month ago she was doing cartwheels with fire-sticks for packed houses. This was WAY cooler!
Except... was the Mandalorian /losing/? Like.. it was super close, right? That Mandalorian's LIFE was in danger, and he was on OUR SIDE!
Lira sticks close to Galen until he nears the wall, nodding at his instructions and running forward, baton outstretched at her side. She closes on the wrestling pair, swinging once and MISSING due to some unforeseen movement between the two. A girl had to be careful, right? But the baton spins once in her hand and comes back down on Rennfi's back, a quiet discharge of electricity sending a shock through him that tossed his body /into/ the Mandalorian.
And just like that, Lira'una, eighteen year old Jedi Padawan, had KILL STOLE--SAVED a FRICKIN MANDALORIAN!! There's a kind of half-worried, half-triumphant glint in her eye as she smiles up at Haddrix and, with /utter/ sincerity whispers, "You're welcome!"
And somehow, that smile under her half-helmet makes it seem entirely sincere. Because it is. It's not scarcastic or even smarmy. She genuinely thought she was saving his life.
---
A net whirrs past, scuttling along the ground and it turn's Hadrix's head in a snap to where Eirik is. The growl rippling from his helmet vocalizer feral, head canting to one side. When the Stormtrooper attempts to strike him, the big man's right hand is up to catch it in his palm, fingers closing around the fist aimed for his throat.
Visor still focused on Eirik, the glowing balor pin light in the right branch flaring when he grabs the faceplate of the guard's helmet with his other hand... in time for the twi'lek to rush up and jam a stun prod into them.
'Amateurs.'
'Quiet.'
Vibroblade sweeping twice at angles into the trooper's neck and then that hand plants on their shoulder. A glare through his visor is issued now to Lira, pure rage rolling off of the man, an anger that seems only to build when he pulls. The head and helmet come off, trailing ichor and sinew, the body held aloft by his left hand and the bubbling rumble from his vocalizer all the answer given before he turns on his heel and quite literally melts back into the shadows with the corpse, like a hunting beast with its kill.
<<"Neutralized...">> the growl utterly bestial.
---
Poor Private Rennfi, Colo knew him not at all. Nor will he. He's too preoccupied doing his level best to preach the benefits of noodle-based diets everywhere. "And if you sauce them just right, you actually get a nice infusion of vitamins at only a minor cost in flavor. Perfect for the little ones, so you'll tell this Rennfi and his family about the benefits, yes?" He entices further.
And just as they're on the edge of their jackboots, Colo sees his chance. "And another benefit of--oh, you have to go back on patrol? Yes, of course, I understand entirely. The Sergeant seems a very dutiful sort. Look, let me get you my plascard and you can both drop by for recipes and--" Which is around when Colo reaches back with one hand, twists at the waist, and deliberately -flicks- with the other of his wily palms. Forth goes the soup, all its heap of vital proteins (1g/serving) wasted on an attempt at providing the belly of Trooper Yollo's armor with a new coat of greasy polish. Alas, such is not to be.
---
Either this ruse has been attempted before or Colo's losing speed as he gets older. The contents of the pot (250% daily sodium/serving) end up littering the ground below, to both Colo's consternation and the attention of Sergeant Moxx. The Corellian lets out an anguished noise to the heavens and promptly heel-turns, hat in hand, apron ready to be torn off, and hopefully enough time bought for his fellow Rebs.
---
Eirik glances at Hadrix and raises a hand in apology. Though quickly darting off and trying to get to the wall and over it into position! His movements quiet, much quieter than one might expect he tries to climb staying in the shadows but slips and clearly isn't as hidden as he though and by that it means he's basically not hidden or obscureed
---
Having enough of just watching, Karas quickly moves along the wall until he gets to the back wall and as he does he looks for a way ov....nevermind there is a hole where someone else cut through. A grin and a plan formulates into the starfighter pilots thoughts. He looks to the hole in the wall, backs up a bit and runs towards the wall, arms pumping, and step, jum *SMACK* into the wall. Sliding down a little, Karas shakes his head, "Ok, a little more speed." he says more to himself. He backs up a few more steps, he gets, 'The Eye of the Tiger!' look in his eyes and he runs towards the wall and he tries to run up the wall and, 'SLAM!' into the wall and he rolls down, though somehow he does this quietly.
---
Soup! Rennfi loves soup even more than noodles! And then it's spilt! Splashing against the floor, spreading in a similar fashion to Rennfi's own life essence as it spills against the cold hard duracrete. His wife glances out a nearby window in their home a few districts away, a smile gently creasing her beautiful face as she catches the dimming light of the day. A soft whisper caresses her lips as she glances to her two slumbering children. "Papa will be home soon." Perhaps with noodles. Perhaps with soup. She doesn't know why she thinks of those things, but she's hungry.
All in all, even with the blood of a trooper and an officer spilt. It seems... to be going well. Perhaps?
The two troopers stumble back and away from the soup spillage, muttering at the waste of food, while Sergeant Moxx looks away from Cadogan again. "I don't know kid, damnit, the Lieutenant is not going to be happy with this mess! Come on now Sir, this really isn't the place for soup... I mean it's everywhere!" That bluff and bluster rings out, though Colo's manner has certainly ensured that no ill will is felt towards this distractor of troopers. Moxx's attention is diverted from the direction of the office at least.
---
Nerys finds herself alone behind enemy lines. In that office with the cooling corpse of Lieutenant Dann, his eyes gazing skywards, just a look of shock etched upon his face. A puddle of blood spilling across the floor slowly. Like soup. Coppery scented soup.
---
Cadogan West keeps up the con, silently wary of what happens when the metaphorical soup hits the fan. He agrees to three thousand credits, handing over a credit stick to the sergeant, stating that he'll be back for the second speeder, and- remembering to bypass the blocked conduit in the manifold, gets the old speeder humming like a rusty dream. Plucking the bowl off the engine housing, he takes one last bite, before guiding the vehicle out into the street.
The credit chip he handed over was bogus, he would NOT be coming back, and as the young ne'er-do-well zips off through the streets of the dingy port, he revels in the righteous triumph of stealing from tyranny. Until the left repulsor coil abruptly goes out, several districts away. He's a skilled enough hand on the yoke that the worst that happens as he brings it to a screeching halt is that those miserable noodles spilled, leaving him flinging noodles off his coat. "Eh well. You get what you pay for, yeah?"
---
Valeska's little perch is getting to feeling a little to constricted. A little too restrained. Tick tock, she can hear the clock. Things are almost done. <<"Confirmed, Infiltration. Overwatch engaging in Grand Finale.">> Moving very slowly, very deliberately, Valeska takes out a cryoban and smirks. <<"Fire in the hole, yeah?">> Oh, the little demo-bug's favorite part.
Pressing the activator, she does an easy undertoss from her height that lands the canister right behind the noodle house. <<"Things are getting frosty in three... two... one...">>
POP! BANG! From behind the cursed noodle house, as if things couldn't get any worse for the establishment, a burst of freezing energy explodes outwards. Clearly, it would seem, a refridgeration unit has given up the ghost and rattled the entire half-block. Shattering a few more windows of the office building and shaking the noodle hut to its core. And also making a hell of a ruckus.
---
Nerys paid no more attention to the dead body than she would the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. She was still on one screen and had to get to the next. A quick perusal of the room revealed the safe. Right out in the open and everything, and she stepped to it, retrieving her small slip of tools from one of her armor pockets and getting to work. Security in this place really was terrible, even when you had enough money NOT to have to outsource to the lowest bidder. The door was opened, the cards removed and tucked away, and then there was only the exfil. <<"I have the package. On my way out.">> And then she was, a hand opening the door just enough for her body to slip out, and she was away, crouching low as she made for the gap between the building and the wall. Again, a bit of physical derring-do so as not to bring down the wall, or tangle herself in the remains of razor wire, before she was dropping down onto the ground outside of the compound. <<"I am out of the compound and moving to the extraction point.">> The blade was tucked back underhand, gloves dark enough to hide the blood that had stained them.
---
Lira had never seen anyone OVERKIL--beheaded, before. Much less from standing just a few feet awaygotten the actual blood and whatever else came off splattered on her armor -- mostly arterial spray. And for a moment, she just sort of... stands there. Really, /super/ epically grossed out. She actually gags a little, turning to the side and quietly retching twice before she's able to get herself back under control.
Arm raised belatedly to try to shield her mouth, her words are mostly muffled by the sleeve. "Fierfek, dude! That's unnecessary!"
Of course, she hadn't looked up, yet. And she she did, the sight of Hadrix standing there, head in one hand, body in another, and /growling/ at her has her taking a step back. Because she was trying to a /helpful/ Twi'lek sprite. Not a stupid or a dead one one.
And then *boom* goes the cryoban.
By the time Lira looks towards the explosion and back, Hadrix is gone. SUPER CREEPY.
Well, xfil time! And so the little Twi'lek starts slipping towards extraction.
---
The body is left tucked behind a set of refuse bins while the big man keeps track of the unfolding situation, hearing the package being secured and the distraction set off. Muttering to himself, the helmet and head within a trophy net hanging from his hip. Within his helm, mic disabled with a flick of his chin, his muttering can go on without being broadcast.
As each figure is noted leaving, the big man blink-marks on his HUD.
<<"Exfil">> stated once he's sure they're all before he disappears as well, melting into the city streets and leaving several red stained kwik-klean rags with the headless corpse.
---
Mission complete!...probably. Colo wishes the rest of the team their best, because he's done what he can from his end save for lob a couple CryoBan grenades straight at the patrols he's distracted. And that's considered, indeed, right up until he spies the tell-tale orb of one sailing over and beyond his precious noodle stand. At once, his heart both leaps and sinks, the fantasy of working the rest of his days as a humble noodist struck down at once with a flash of light and a pop of exhausted ice near the stand's equipment.
He wastes but a few moments more in popping his noodle-intern's hat and apron atop the counter and then eases on off like he didn't just play the social engineering side of a heist gone good. Within a few minutes, he reclaims his rightful place at Valeska's side, albeit this time sans the outfit and with an extra reek of soup about his foots. "Miss me?" He distracts. Then presses, with rancor. "Did you end my noodle dreams? I was about to make Sub-Secondary Lt. Assistant. Frally said I might own the place in 30 years."
---
Eirik slowly starts making his way to exfil keeping close to the back of the group, taking up part of the rear guard as they make their way out.
---
Karas rolls to his knees and he slowly gets up, and as he hears that they are leaving, he quickly shakes his head an dnow he hears an explosions. "Kriff..." he quickly runs to his original position and as he moves back to his original position.
<<Exfilling.>> he says into his comm, and he waits until he starts to see people leaving and once he does he beings hoofing it towards his freighter, he does have a good run ahead of him but seeing as he wasn't inside with the others, he still feels they did a good job and he quickly moves up the ramp of his ship and starts prepping to take off.
---
Rennfi wouldn't be found for a good half an hour, the distraction of the exploding noodle cart would see the Troopers and Sergeant Moxx push past Colo somewhat bodily and stare in awe at the chill venting from this ruined noodle stand. Sergeant Moxx waves a hand towards Colo, though Colo has run. "Wait there, we'll need to talk to you about your stand... this is... unacceptible." His gaze drifting towards the place that Colo had been. Only now there's soup and the faint hint of remorse and grief.
The explosion gives the gathered group enough time to exfil, attention is easily drawn from those who seek to depart, for the gathered citizens eye the cold inferno of ice and vapour, finding themselves pushed back behind a line for their own safety.
A few hours later, Rennfi's widow is heard wailing and wailing. She doesn't stop any time soon. Likewise the Lieutenant, his body found a short time after that of Rennfi's, his lover driven to palpitations of grief, for he was to retire but a single day from this day. He had served honourably, decently, he had tried to do his best despite the corrupt system that often sought to ruin his sense of morals. An investigation began for this senseless act of brutality and theft of course...
I mean... Rennfi's head wasn't found. Who takes a head?! Seriously! Widow Rennfi wailed into the night and beyond. Senseless. Bloody. Whatever the reason, the Investigators would not rest.
With Cadogan's 'crash' and the others all exfilling under the distraction, it was perhaps... perhaps a success to be proud of.
---
