Log:New Republic: Trouble on the Horizon

The New Republic has intercepted an aborted distress signal from the passenger transport 'Horizon' in the orbit of Pamarthe. When hailed, the Horizon offers no response, yet approaching vessels are met with hostility. It is believed innocents are on board and are being used as leverage. Officers of the Pantheon are to meet for a briefing.

Trouble on the Horizon

OOC Date: December 2, 2021
Location: Star Cruiser Pantheon Briefing Room
Participants: Calista Alistair (GM), Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron, Erinn Laski, Ambrosia Greystorm, Bors Thul, Erik

The ready room is a circular space with tiered seats lined in a crescent around a central table. Certainly more for function than comfort, it is nevertheless a blend of both though few are likely to have a movie night here. At least not that brass would know about.

The lights above the seating area are kept dimmer than those above the table itself where a flickering blue projection of the planet Pamarthe very slowly rotates. Other screens along the far wall are currently off, making the projection the sole focal point.

The call had been put in for all divisions to send officers as representation to the briefing and now those officers begin to file in and most of them find their seats. Some opt to stand along the back wall and a few lean against the side.

Captain Calista Alastair is standing to one side of the large circular table leaning on both hands over a datapad and thumbing through the screens as she waits for the officers to settle. Her green eyes looking up periodically through her short black hair and scan the faces as they arrive.

Rather than wearing a non-descript flightsuit lacking nametapes and insigia, Commander Jessika Pava stands near the projection table in dress uniform. First-class Corellian bloodstripes are piped down the outside of her trousers and emblems of the Starfighter Corps around her lapels and Black Squadron on the sleeves of the uniform pair with her rank pins and name badge to identify who she is and which unit she belongs with. Though not required to don headwear, her cap is nonetheless tucked into her left arm, which is curled up at the elbow. Her right is angled forward so that her steepled fingers press their tips against the edge of the table while the rotating planet of Pamarthe casts her and her uniform in a ghostly blue glow. Awards spanning years of combat form the board on the left side of her jacket. Few career officers save those of the highest echelon ever assemble one so decorated. In the room? Only two individuals would have one more stacked.

One of the officers in question arrives in nothing but a black G-suit and a gunbelt around his waist. Poe Dameron arrives looking a bit unkempt but not worse for wear, he's sporting a hefty beard at this point, its colors matching the dark of his messy hair. Rather than moving toward the bottom where the glowing table is, he takes a seat near the front like a teacher's pet. He's got a fresh energy drink, not yet cracked open, and some geedunk from one of the machines outside the room that will no doubt rattle in its wrapper at SOME point during the brief. Poe plops down in his seat and tries to muster some semblance of military bearing coming fresh off leave; all he manages to encourage is a long yawn though, and those are contagious.

Erinn Laski got here a little early. Okay, she got here about ten minutes early. It's been awkward silence since she arrived. While a representative officer of the Pantheon's Engineering team, Erinn Laski is here as more an observer than a participant. She's seated beside the Chief of Engineering, who had just settled beside her a moment ago. They look to be far more comfortable in a room full of superior officers than she does. There's a visible sort of tension in her body and face, but not one that betrays her entirely. A data-pad in front of her containing the briefing's notes is flipped through, but she keeps on turning her eyes up to look at the holographic projection that slowly rotates at the far end of the table.

The motion of Jessika Pava entering the room causes Erinn's eyes to naturally draw back in her direction. She glances at the decorated officer over her shoulder and follows her through the room before flicking away as the woman gets seated.

Erinn's then catches Poe and his yawn, and when she turns back to look at her data-pad, she's yawning too. She flips through each page back and forth, ensuring she doesn't miss anything.

One such decorated officer files in on the tail end of her contingent of Army grunts already shuffling into audience rows. General Greystorm, looking a bit extra 'gray' today (maybe it's the way she braided her hair?) hovers for a minute near the briefing table...then abdicates the spot and slips toward the general seating. She pauses for a long beat for a long look at Poe, her steely greens centerpiecing an inscrutible expression. Except...a tiny quirk of lip twitches upward on the left.

No words needs, her head tips into a ghost of a nod, then she keeps on walking. To the back. Maybe she feels like lurking? The aging soldier lowers into a spot and gives her jacket a straightening tug then folds one ankle over her other knee. Those heads gathering between table and this back row are gonna have some swiveling to do. Ain't nobody spacing out during this briefing.

Clad in black, though that's fairly standard for a Thul - lacking only the gold and ruby tones to match comes Bors. With all of the airs of lord attending court. Well, that's not to far off isn't it? Monocle fixed firmly in place and standing to one side of the seat he is assuming the scout pilot become commando stands.

The rotating image of Pamarthe holds his attention far more than aught else, lips parting momentarily before he seems to think better and closes up anew, holding out a hand clasping a datapad and using a stylus too bring up data as well. Again the urge to speak, it comes! It struggles and like a mighty Alderaanin Knight of the legends past, in the long long ago he battles it! Bravely! Bravely does Lord Bors face the whims of his own prattling mouth! Battering it down with sword and shield crafted of will and tenacity.

All with only a single twitch of his left eye to tell besides the momentary parting of his lips.

Truly the hero we all need.

Erik walks in moving silently to find a place to stand or possibly sit. He nods to people he's net before but otherwise remains silent and business like.

With everyone gathered, Calista rises to her full height and turns to regard those in the room with proper respect. Slight dips of her head -- nods of acknowledgement as the last few enter and find their seats. When it appears that all who are going to arrive have, she tucks her hands behind her back. "Thank you for coming. Let's get to it."

Her accent is thick but does nothing to impede her speech; crisp and concise as she turns to regard the projection. "Approximately two day ago we intercepted an aborted distress signal in Pamarthe's orbit from a passenger transport named Horizon." A quick tap of her datapad brings up the craft in question: a Sorosub Ferryboat Liner. The outer panels of the projection pull away like layers off an onion and reveal the liner's generic schematics and stats. "When hailed, the Horizon offers no response and upon approach, vessels are met with immediate and aggressive hostility."

Another tap of her datapad fuzzes out the projection and switches it to that of an Aggressive ReConnaissance starfighter. Just like the liner, the ARC rotates a slow three-sixty then sheds the outer panels to show crucial information such as guns, hyperdrives, and engines.

"A squadron of ARCs act like a pack of attack dogs to any that get too close. This has disrupted trade and traffic; forcing freighters and shuttles to reroute to other starports."

Calista pauses in her explanation to let the first part digest with those present and open the air to comments or questions.

"What's Pamarthe have to say about it? Any information from them? Point of origin? Manifest?" Jessika's scrutinizing eye is glued to the holographic projections while the question is asked. She studies the passenger transport more than the ARC starfighters that act as a shield to guard it. She knows those. Old Republic types, from many decades past. They pack less of a punch than even the Headhunters these days, unless someone's taken the time to retrofit them and upgrade the systems, but some questions are more important than others and Jessika would rather ask broad scope than honing in on what it would take to start shooting things down. For now, at least. After a few more moments of study, her gaze trails to Captain Alastair.

"What the hell is a passenger transport doing in a system like Pamarthe? It's not a tourist destination. We're talking about a cranky world with volcanoes and misty seas with angry storms ALL the rekking time. Two things come out of Pamarthe with any degree of certainty: Great.. no, --Amazing-- pilots, and Pirates. I've been out of touch for too long though, I couldn't really regale you all on the details of what pirate crews are where.. speaking of, where is /our/ pirate?"

Poe looks around whilst cracking open his energy drink to noisily drink from it while looking around for Ektor. Damned guy isn't anywhere to be found.

When Calista begins to speak, Erinn Laski's attention drifts up towards the Captain and then, as motion begins to play out on the holograph projection, towards where that display shifts to a familiar looking space transport, but when the projection opens up, the young woman blinks in surprise. It's as if the layout itself is different than she expected it to be. She leans her head to the side so that both of her elbows are resting on the table now, and her eyes flick through the various compartments to discern an order or a pattern to it. She wears a look of visible confusion, but it isn't until the others speak that she looks away and leans back into her seat.

"It's a pleasure cruiser, too. That ship can hold at least four hundred passengers," she says, "Maybe more."

She lightly taps her index finger on the data pad in quiet contemplation.

For now, the old battleaxe in the back is silent. Her gaze is fixed upon the Sorosub Ferryboat, in spite of it being replaced by an ARC - just staring at the memory which once was. All those layers peeled away and revealing potential access points, maintenance hatches, and various ways one might get to-from the cockpit with least resistance possible. Naturally, her brain's gone to boarding-party mode. The starfighters? Not her area of concern.

But she speaks up anyway.

"That pleasure ship show any signs of harboring its own firepower? If its attack dogs were disabled, can she still pack a punch?"

"ARC-170s? Those things are ancient... relatively." Left brow popping up a fraction as he speaks, looking to his datapad and tapping away again with a line forming between his eyes like the frown on his face. "Though to speculate on both of the Generals's questions; it's most likely not a passenger craft, I suspect defenses hidden somewhere, and maybe even room to pick up a few new recruits for their uses. Piracy or otherwise." a bit of a anachronized twitch of his speech adding an H turning the word to other-whise.

"I'm finding myself cast on history, the number of times the fighter corps on patrols would find vessels like that, converted so. It's really rather impressive what one can do to a heavy cargo, or passenger, hauler when the cargo space is converted to power supply, weapon support and deflector array housing... even when cobbled together with scrap and parts salvage." Bors frowns a little deeper now, eyes narrowing slightly as he gazes on the ship.

Erik listens and moves a bit further in closer. His eyes looking up every last bit of that projection. He listens to whats said and his brow raises, further at Poe and Jessika's reactions. He doesn't speak this is one of those times its better to listen than be heard.

The projection returns to the rotating image of Pamarthe then zooms in to a cluster of large, rugged islands with several bridges made of rope, stone, and wood connecting the main hubs as well as lines of watercraft traffic.

She regards Jessika first. "Attempts to make contact with those planetside have been ultimately unsuccessful, Commander. Local authority in the space above where the Horizon keeps orbit answer in only clipped, vague responses making claim that all is well." Calista's tone is normally even and flat, but even so there is a distinct hint of disbelief at those claims.

Towards Poe, Calista gives a short nod. "That is the question, General. Last port to list the Horizon was Taris. Then it jumped into hyper and was next found here. There is certainly a lack of intel."

Calista points up at the projection; specifically to a large building on the main island. "We suspect something is happening planetside and the Horizon is being used as leverage. And they would have a lot of leverage." A gesture in Erinn's direction as the young engineer speaks of the ship's potential capacity. "Exactly. Though since it left Taris space, we've no idea what happened there or who is on board. But assured the ARCs were not part of the star system tour."

Calista lifts her head to regard Ambrosia who looms in the back and a few taps of her fingers brings the Horizon's schematics back up. And a flick of her green eyes to Bors, as well, with an acknowledging nod. "No weaponry that scouts could see nor from the ship's past history. It is a leisure craft through and through though no doubt the interior is another matter."

Leaning again on her hands, Calista looks at the table in frowning contemplation; then up at the group assembled. "We need to secure the Horizon. And to do that, we will need to get the pack off the prey without giving them a chance to hail potential back up from the Horizon. I am open to ideas, but I am thinking a two-pronged movement. Our squadron takes on the ARCs while a boarding party makes for the Horizon."

"..You're telling me a whole planet is radio silent since this transport took up residence in orbit?" Jessika may be picking up on the Captain's note of disbelief or maybe she's just identifying the issue in the response from the get-go. Whatever the case, the woman's face contorts into an expression of displeasure. "Taris?" She murmurs it more to herself than anyone else. There are dots that aren't connecting anywhere, but if Jessika is used to one thing, it's that seemingly unconnected circumstances often have something in common when it comes to these situations. Or maybe it's just bias. She recognizes that. Exhaling through her nose, she casts a glance around the room again. "You should disable the Horizon before moving on it and hope they don't have some sort of bomb ready to detonate the whole transport. This whole thing stinks. Reminds me of a time someone tried to mock up a fuel transport as genuine with the intention of using it as a weapon on a target." Jessika glances towards Poe as she says it. She doesn't include, to the larger room, that she had essentially crash-landed on the ship with the purpose of disabling it and was lucky she didn't make the thing go boom all on her own.

"The ARCs may be old, but they are a real problem in the hands of good pilots. For the sake of assuming they're that good, Black Squad should move in as advanced party to see if we can get them to flash their teeth. We'll need positive I.D. before I can authorize an engagement, but if they come out of the gates swinging, we can take them. Barring any complications, we can signal for the Pantheon and crew to follow, open the door for the old Battleaxe to deploy some Marines aboard. Thoughts?" Poe begins to open the noisy wrapped piece of lemon spice cake as he listens for the others to speak up. They were all officers, so this was an open forum.

Erinn sits forward again in her seat when she listens to Calista speak. Her lips seem to want to frown -- even when she's just listening, there's a slight downward tug to their corners. She looks back down to her datapad and begins to flick through what looks to be internal schematics of the ARC-170. "I remember reading about this ship in school. I think it had a... weird fault in its engineering. An external sensor array that would go fritzy from time to time. It'd cut off power to the entire sensor suite," she says, and pulls her bottom lip briefly behind her top row of teeth. She taps on her datapad, right on an external diagram of the ship's starboard hull.

"Here. It might be worth a shot. Without sensors, a boarding party might be able to sneak in unnoticed." She glances over her shoulder to the Chief of Engineering who seems, at this moment, content to simply observe the young Lieutenant. Unsure, she turns back to look at the others in the room.

"I think," she adds.

From Bors to Calista, Poe to Jess....and Erinn. Ambrosia's eyeballs are getting a minor workout from all the little tics to and fro while she creaks back in her seat. 50/50 about the origin of said creak - seat? Or spine?

Her head bobs slowly all the while.

"I'm definitely on board for clipping that Liner's wings before we make a move on her. Scuttling the ship is a risk we face, but if those fighters can get jammed up enough to bork their broadcasts to and from the Liner then we might get to knock a bit more quietly...buy a little time. Lt Laski, I'd like you to mark up that schematic aaaaall the places - engineering or otherwise - you'd rig to blow if you were the bishwag in charge of that operation lookin' to make the biggest, baddest mess outta that boat and any interlopers within achievable blast radius. I'd like to launch two boats to board - one full o'guns to sweep toward 'pit and one to escort some demolition techs with goal of locating and disarming any would-be problems. Also, knocking on two doors means whatever firepower's waiting inside has got to split its attention. Can Black Squadron get close enough to get a more thorough scan OF the Horizon? Any chance we get a rough estimate of where those living bodies aboard are concentrated?"

The others speaking up and Bors with his thoughts billowing about is set silent for the second time this evening. But really, there's two people present that put him to shame in his surreptitiously, subtly sequestered spacefaring shenanigans simply set so sufficiently, superfluous sailing selves suddenly sundered searingly soundly.

Yes. He has nothing presently to add to all else to be put forward.

But he looks fantastic doing it.

Erik listens intently soaking up the info. His eyes dart from Poe, to Jess, than to Bors before landing on Calista. Opening his mouth Erik looks like he may say something but than stops himself in favor of more watching and listening.

"The whole planet?" Calista muses over Jessika's question. It's a legit question and she has the answer. It's merely a matter of wording it the best she can. "No. Only the local authority above where the Horizon orbits is being resistant in cooperating. Be it by choice or coerced. The other hubs we've managed to contact are aware of the situation. They, too, have been met with hostility when trying to approach, but also cannot get the locals to divulge anything. I'm afraid in this scenario, we are blind to what's going on planetside and we cannot pry further until we secure Horizon for the sake of those on board."

Boots echoing across the space, Calista approaches Erinn; looking down at the woman with that resting, passive expression. She holds out a hand and quirks her eyebrow. "May I, Lieutenant?" She says in direction to the datapad then takes it when offered and starts making her way up the stairs.

"The concern is that the moment combat begins, a covert approach will be out of the question. They will know we're there rather quickly. General Dameron, do you think your team can juggle engaging with an enemy squadron as well as protecting our transport shuttles?" She asks this not out of doubt but merely for clarification that the plan itself is a viable one.

The datapad that shows the sensor weaknesses of the Ferryliner is handed over to Ambrosia for the Battleaxe to look over herself. "Sounds like Lieutenant Laski will be going with you, General Greystorm. We'll need boots on the Horizon as quickly as possible before they can scramble into defensive positions." Calista starts back down the stairs again, motioning to Erinn then a tilt of her head towards Ambrosia as she passes: a gentle 'you're with her.'

"The details can be worked out amongst the individual teams in terms of their engagement, but it sounds like we've got a plan for securing the liner. All we are missing is getting the scan of the Horizon to know what awaits on board." Her eyes look to Poe as the question from Ambrosia was directed mostly at him.

Jessika's brows hike up when Calista clarifies that some element of Pamarthe's own refuses to cooperate with the planet's authorities. "Sounds like some arrests need to be made and some hard questions asked. Maybe this should be a three-pronged mission and not just two. If crew in the local hub refuses to cooperate, then the most logical answer is that they're in on it. Taking over a large transport liner is one thing. Fielding a starfighter squadron, taking a transport, AND taking hostages of local authority? I think we'd be talking about either a very serious, very dangerous, and very well-funded pirate group, a legitimate operation by a private or military organization, or collusion of some sort. I'd suggest we coordinate with Pamarthe, but if this is some measure of an inside job, we wouldn't be able to communicate with them safely without tipping our own hand."

Poe shares a look with Jess when she regards him, regaling a previous mission from what felt like a lifetime ago. Poe stays quiet, listening to the others pose questions and stand up strategies.

"Safeguarding shuttles and fighting formidable ARCs is a tough gamble I wouldn't wager on. I think Bors can get in quick enough to scan and jam, and I'll call in a favor with Gold squad. If Black can screen the fighters, Gold squad can launch a simultaneous attack and drop ion charge along the exterior hull of the transport."

"With any luck, the transport will flounder, we can jam the area, and we can bring the Pantheon on location to use tractor beams to pull the vessel to a safe distance. There wouldn't be any need for us to risk shuttles until we know we have the vessel away from the planet, and we've cut its comms with the surface keeping them from possibly contacting back up, but it's still a short window for our Marines to work in."

Erinn listens to Ambrosia's request to do as much structural damage to the ship and the surrounding area as possible. She gives a nod, but her eyes are focusing on that projection of the ship just past the General. Her eyes seem to flick back and forth as she ponders the possibilities, and when Calista reaches to take her data pad, Erinn lifts it from the table to make it easier to grasp. "Yes sir," she says to Calista. It seems she's still considering Ambrosia's question, that thoughtful expression still resembling a frown or a pout as she weighs her different options.

Calista's suggestion that Erinn join the boarding party gets a nod from the young woman, though it's a nod given with some trepidation and a slight grasp of her left hand against the corner of the table. That slight trepidation is on display when General Ambrosia is handed Erinn's datapad, and Calista gives the 'you're with her' in the other woman's direction. The muscles in her jaw work as she pushes her teeth together.

The tactical discussion of two-pronged and three-pronged assaults are outside of her wheelhouse. "I need time to draw some things up. I can have options to you by nineteen-hundred hours tomorrow. If that works for you, sir," she says.

Ambrosia's frown lines deepen, one hand going up to accept the datapad when it's delivered to her. The other hand cups around the back of her neck and she nods - head and datapad - at Erinn. "Good. I'd rather deploy the demo-disarm team as close to their potential targets as possible. If they haven't already blown it all to hell before we can get inside."

Or y'know...immediately thereafter.

"I'm with Commander Pava, with regards to sending a little inquisition hub-ward. Whether the whole place stinks or well-mannered locals are in need of an assist, it's worth getting eyes on the situation. If Black Squad's too tangled with the ARCs, we can supply the boots." A glance goes down to datapad in lap. "It's a tight time table regardless the strategy, 'fore the crew inside that big boat knows we're on their doorstep, but wouldn't be the first time we've fought the clock, eh?"

"That is our concern, as well, Commander Pava," Calista replies with gravity dragging the words down. "The mission will not be over when we've secured the Horizon, but some of the answers we're looking for may very well be on that ship. As well as potentially several hundred innocent lives. Once we secured the civilian vessel, we can find out what's going on planetside. It may be a diplomatic nightmare or a coup. But." Her hands disappear to rest together at the small of her back. "One step at a time."

Her eyes rise to the projection to where the Ferryliner schematics slowly spin. It's not the Horizon exactly, but you've seen one cruise liner, you've seen them all. Ears open to the pair of Generals, Calista does not speak until the space has fallen silent again and she muses on what's been discussed.

"Black Squadron will engage the ARC hostiles with Liutenant Thul leading the charge to get close enough to the Horizon for an intel scan. While the enemy is engaged, Gold Squadron will scuttle the Horizon; aiming to disable it at key locations in the hull and scramble their communications allowing Pantheon to tractor the vessel out of Pamarthe's orbit and to a safer location."

She looks down at her own datapad on the desk, entering in something as she continues talking. "Once there, General Greystorm will lead our boarding teams; dispatching to take the Horizon on the inside. Neutralize threats, disable any internal security systems, and secure the passengers. From there, we can locate the ship's manifest and travel logs. As well as transmissions that may have been sent. Then we will turn our focus to Pamarthe."

A job for booms, brains, and bots. Who could ask for more?

From one face to the next, Caslista looks over those assembled with a discerning gaze. "Sound correct?"

"The only thing I have to add is that if the local authorities are colluding with those aboard the Horizon, waiting to send a team could mean they have enough time to abandon their posts and disperse once they realize what's going on. Disabling the Horizon's communications will be the tip off. They'll leave as soon as that happens if they're smart. I have nothing further." Point made, Jessika lapses into silence and waits for the powers that be to have their final say in the matter. She adjusts the position of her left arm, easing some of the strain in the joint from being bent and in the same position for so long. Like the Captain, Jessika's gaze is settled on the crowd as a whole, though it does settle on Amber for a moment long enough to catch her gaze and give a subtle nod in the General's direction. Recognition, mostly. Silent gratitude, too, for offering to supply the boots for a hub attack if one was decided.

"I we're set on a simultaneous attack, I'll ask Red Squad to be the escort for the shuttles so Black can fully devote to screening. You make a good point, Commander Pava. That's my only addendum, Captain." Poe tips back his energy drink and drains it, then starts to crumple the wrapper of his snack, stuffing it inside the disposable beverage container. Looks like Poe is good with the strategy overall.

Erinn waits her turn to speak, carefully nipping on her bottom lip as she considers her words.

"Yes sir. I do agree with Commander Pava, however. I can provide options, but without intelligence, it's entirely guesswork as to which parts of the ship they'd hit, and the level of destruction they'd be willing to... inflict. Any information we can get our hands on will help us narrow it down," Erinn says, shortly after Jessika speaks. Erinn isn't questioning Calista's suggestion so much as she is stating a fact. It's a fact she doesn't particularly seem to care for, but is the reality of the situation. Her lips tighten for a moment and she swallows. Her finger depresses the top button of her datapad. The light casting out from its screen cuts out, and her face is left to be illuminated only by the ambient light of the room.

She looks around from person to person and pulls her datapad close to her chest, forearms forming a crossing pattern across its backside.

Greystorm Sr puts one finger in the air, crooks it to half mast when Jessika speaks out, then fingerguns it in the SFC Commander's direction. "Yeah, if we wait till the business aboard Horizon is done and our Intel brains sift through the mud, whoever's in cahoots planetside will be gone. If they're smart." A halfhearted shrug and hand waggle says those odds are iffy. "Hit'em hard and fast and maybe we stand to catch one. One mouth's all we need to get some answers, but any who do disperse..." A tic of her head to the right and slight grimace express just as much as words might. And saves her the breath.

"Noted, Commander," Callista regards, adding the note into her own files, as well. "It is a calculated risk, to be sure. But the hope is that even if that is the case and they flee, they will leave enough behind that we can track down who was responsible. Once the Pantheon has eyes on the planet and can secure the airspace, it is the hope that the other planetary authorities would demand answers, as well." Calista looks up at Jessika with that same calm, stony expression. But her eyes are very much alive and passionate. "If those responsible to not relinquish their hold so easily, we've other measures to employ." Though that can wait for another time.

"Understood, General Dameron. Black Squadron will have their hands full with this particular lot but I am sure it is nothing you and your team can't handle. Gold and Red will be at your backs." A glance up at Poe as he crumbles up his loud lemon-spice wrapper and that impassive expression breaks. Just a teeny, tiny bit.

She looks to Erinn, that uptick of her brow only just then coming down again. "Intel will be provided by Black Squadron; courtesy of Lieutenant Thul. I am confident they will succeed. But should we have to improvise, I trust General Greystorm to do so handily."

Finishing her notes, Calista takes her datapad and tucks it into her uniform jacket, regarding Ambrosia directly. "You can, of course, assemble your team however you like, General. Jedi or allies, as well, but they must be assembled quickly. We will monitor the situation and execute the mission in a few days."

One more glance to those gathered and an assertive nod. "Thank you all for coming. You are dismissed and may the Force be with you."