Log:Resistance: StarKiller Briefing

StarKiller Briefing

OOC Date: January 10, 2018
Location: D'Qar
Participants: Han Solo, Sar Yavok, Gren Delede, Ambrosia Greystorm, Karas Darkwing, Maeve Zavir, David Ironside The_Resistance

It's been a loooooong couple of hours since the destruction of the Hosnian system. Recon flights have been pouring all over the galaxy in search of the mysterious weapon that did the dirty deed. The top brass (and Sar) are gathered in the conference room, everybody looking at those weird glass monitors with lines on them and stuff.

Sar is leaning against one of the readouts with red eyes and a mug of caff steaming away in front of him.

Gren lifts a handset from one of the consoles, and listens for a moment. He looks across the conference table, and shakes his head. "Delta Flight reports no joy." The Major looks down at the chrono, and sighs. He rubs briefly at his exhausted looking face, and leans a bit more heavily on the terminal. A few key taps, and he scowls at the information that displays. "Handful of teams still left to report...there's still hope." A glance across the table at Sar. "You still doing alright, Yavok?" He did take a wallop not that long ago, after all.

Greystorm isn't too late for the party, entering with dead eyes and red face. She's been pounding off a little steam on something (or someone) and looks like she's got some hypertension in the works. The newly ascended Colonel hadn't been in attendance at the Takodana party - she'd been stuck here, surveying the base's defense and overseeing a few tweaks to the system - but doesn't appear incredibly surprised to see Yavok among the ranks within once more. Delede /had/ warned her. The marginally younger man gets a solid once-over.

"How many teams have reported since launch?" she inquires upon entry, both hands interlocked behind her neck and under the sloppy remnants of ponytail.

Han and Leia had entered the base a little while ago and they'd gone straight to speak with Admiral Ackbar. After that the two were seen speaking with one another near one of the holo projection maps, but there was a lot of mileage between those two and it showed in how they interacted together.

When Leia walked away from him again, he showed a look of disappointment and then turned in a way that looked as though he was considering walking out. But he didn't, his eyes fell across the room toward where Threepio was, he stared at the droid for a moment while it spoke to BB-8 and then pulled a blanket off of the deactivated Artoo. Luke's droid.

Han released a heavy sigh and he turned back into the base, he spotted Ambrosia and started to walk slowly in her direction. When they'd make eye contact he'd give her a little upward nod with his chin.

A huge greeeting, coming from him!

"Yeah, I'm fine. Startin' to leave a nasty bruise, though," Sar says, rolling a shoulder. "I'm starting to think that Kylo guy might have it out for me. Second time in two years he's thrown me around like that. Still sucks just as much." He looks over his shoulder at Amber and, very frankly, says, "All of them."

"We're still waiting on Wexley's report, and a few others. Call it eighty-five percent reporting negatives." Gren replies by way of greeting for Amber.. Snap gets a special mention. He's their best, or something. "Have you spoke with the General, since we got back?" Casual question for Greystorm, while Delede purses his lips, and stifles another disdainful shake of his head. "Stop screwing around with him. You see a man in a mask with a lightsaber? Get out of his way. Or you're going to get killed." Speaking of the General....the Major watches her less better half enter the room and head for Ambrosia.

Grimly set lips twitched in response to Han's upnod and her chin dips into the opposing direction. Also, that left eye/cheek twitches a bit. Was that a wink, or a spasm? Hard to say, given her medical history. In either case, now it's a party. A brow of disbelief quirks upward in response to Sar. Careful now....the die-hard ground pounder is on the verge of being impressed with the newest generation of flyboys. Son excluded, of course. She takes a final glance over shoulder to ensure the youngest Greystorm has not followed her here from the mats. Shiner-eyed boy had best be hitting the showers like she told him and NOT stalking after Solo's shadow like a gobstruck teenager. "No," Amber shakes loose her straying thoughts and rubs a hand over face to come and join Gren in his irreverent lean against table. "She's been preoccupied."

Han had heard people speak about Kylo here and there throughout the past several years, since Kylo had made himself a prominent figure inside people's nightmares. What he didn't do, was allow himself to react to any of it. He knew who Kylo was, that didn't mean anyone else had to... not from his mouth at the least. Han did glance over at Sar and Gren though before he looked back to Ambrosia.

"She usually is." He idly commented, which is one of many reasons that he and Leia had had a troubled marriage. But he didn't linger on that comment.

"We're gonna take care of this, make sure everyone..." Han motioned with his right hand in a lazy-styled gesture around the base. "... here knows that. What went down today, we'll get to the bottom of it and stop it. We've done it before, we'll do it again."

Trying to instill a little hope around here? What a guy. Really, Han just didn't like seeing all the sad sorry faces. That was his thing.

"He was heading towards you and Maeve," Sar says as his rebuttle to Gren. That's as much explanation as he should have to give, after all. He reaches down to grab his mug of caff before taking a long sip from it. Smacking his lips, he looks over to Ambrosia, asking, "Happy to see me, Greystorm?" There's a ghost of a smirk.

Setting his mug down, he idly strokes a thumb along the Bloodstripes on his pants, eyes turning back to the monitor.

"Yeah, I know it," the old ice queen grumps around a palm still pressed to face. "Just a repetition of history. Just like we'd warned those pompous asswigs in the Senate..." the hand flops to side and she casts a long look sideways at Sar. "Sure." A flash of teeth too perfect to be her own comes a beat too late to be genuine.

Gren meets Han's eyes as they glance in his direction. There is a very slight nod. A brief smile forms on Delede's face, as Han speaks. He'd said pretty much the same thing to Leia, before they left for D'qar. Great minds and all of that. Sar's explanation? It draws a lifted eyebrow, and a more firm nod. "Heartwarming, Sar. But, still. I'd rather you be in one piece." The receiver near his hand makes a growling buzz. It draws his attention, and he reaches down for the handset. He listens intently for a long moment, and then there is another brief, grim smile. "Understood. Have him return to base immediately." The starfighter pilot replaces the handset, and looks at the other officers, and former General around the conference area. "Wexley found it. He has a holoscan. But, he still has to finish the jump home." He straightens his back, and glances toward the door, as if the plans are just going to walk through in the next moment.

Han's hands were on the sides of his hips, his thumbs tucked under the leather belt that was connected to the holster on his right thigh. He listened to the others, but otherwise remained quiet after giving Ambrosia another little nod, they'd both been at this for awhile and had a lot of interaction... though most of it was in the far flung past now.

Han's gaze shot over to Gren then when he announced this news. "Great." He sighed. "Answers. See?" He said then. "We're already on our way to wrapping this all up." Which was said with a clear hint of disgruntled sarcasm.

"Something like that," Sar remarks to Han, slipping by him to set his mug down on a nearby counter. His hands move to rest on his hips and he leans back against a wall, looking like he very much just wants to slide down to the ground. Intel is terrible, long work, after all. "He say how far out he was?" he asks of Gren.

What a vibrant, motivated, inspirational band of brothers they are! Ambrosia tugs at the band holding up her silver'n'gold and refashions it into something more bun-like. "No worries, then," she says of the inbound answers and tugs a little flask out of belt. "Cheers," she tosses it at Han without stealing a sip for herself first. She'd run into Chewbacca offworld several months back, picking up a drop from some civvie supplier, but hadn't inquired as whether or not Cap'n Solo was in company. Inside, she's a little bit glad to see him still alive, following their brief bartop encounter last year. A little more glad to see him here. And maybe, maybe a little bit glad to see Sar, all cleaned up and back in action. "Yavok, what do I call you now, eh? Captain?"

"It'll be another few hours. We've got time to prepare a strike force. You know we'll need one...whatever the scans say." A pause, and Gren adds..."There was some interference on the transmission. We'll get more information when he arrives." Gren, Sar, Amber, and Han Solo stand in the conference room, conversing. Major Delede leans on the table, and smirks at Han's sarcasm. Some of the Coruscanti's exhaustion seems to have been replaced by a sense of purpose. They have a direction now. They'll shortly have a good idea of what meeting their objective entails. He looks positively cheerful compared to his earlier dour countenance.

TIME-SKIP. The briefing for the important people has happened, and now it's time for the non-FCs. A big holo of Starkiller base rotates slowly above one of the terminals, looking all around too familiar for a lot of the people in this room.

"Can't really give 'em points for originality, can you?" Sar asks whoever's standing beside him. People are still filing in and finding their seats, waiting to see what is required of them.

Carrying a datapad with her and wearing a sort of pensive expression, Dr. Zavir is one of the people entering the room and finding a seat. That hand not carrying her datapad is carrying a mug that holds her socially acceptable caffeine addiction, and she takes a seat near someone else who looks as confused but earnest.

Dressed in his X-Wing Flightsuit, Karas is ready, he does look nervous, but he has his data pad and he walks in and sits down. He lets out a breath and looks to the hologram, his eyes taking in those who are here and he waits to see whats going on.

Han and Chewbacca move together into the area where there are fresh faces waiting to hear from someone. He'd done his thing with Ackbar and Leia and now he was coming to talk to those who'd been assembled.

Han paced for a moment. Chewbacca said something in his native tongue to Han, which made him check something in one of his leather jacket pockets, then he shook his head back to the wookiee.

Once everyone was seated, Han looked at them again.

"Alright, look." He started, voice gruff and short on patience. "We've been through this before. At least... those of us in charge have." He started is rousing speech. "You've, by now, heard the basics on what to expect. A... bigger Death Star..." Han's brows rose up to punctuate that sarcasm that was thick on his voice.

"Chewie'n I are going to be taken a detachment of volunteers to the surface of their base. We can't take a huge team, but we can take a strike team big enough to make a distraction. And thats the mission. Its volunteers because, well... survival is slim. For all of us."

Han cleared his throat, his left hand on his left hip and his right hand waving gently at them. "But this is what you signed up for, right? To stop these... monsters, from doing what they did to us today."

Han's right hand motioned to the holo projection.

"Once the Falcon lands, the detachment of soldiers is going here." He motioned to a spot on a ridge. "Where you'll start to place explosive charges to call out Imperi--" Han cut himself off and cleared his throat. "First, Order... troopers. Which will allow Chewbacca, myself, and... that other guy, to slip in and deactivate the planetary shields for the air support to enter."

"Nah..." Greystorm Sr shakes her head, arms folded over vested breast as she watches the base schematics go round and round. "Nah, you can't." Give points for originality. As Han gives his run-down of the plan, she turns an appraising eye on the bodies gathering before them, an eye that turns a bit more darkly on the 'other' guy in the room. "You know I'm in," says the spec-ops vet. Her unhappy glare slides right on over to a bright-eyed face of a tall, blonde youth standing in the waaaay back. The relation is obvious to anyone with decent vision. The hand that started to go up comes back down. Over her dead body, Wedge Greystorm. "I want a field doc with us. Let's just assume someone bleeds."

"Well, I'm a surgeon, I'm just not that familiar with the use of a blaster. My expertise has been in the area of repairing the damaged caused by same," Maeve speaks up from where she's seated. "That said, I'm volunteering all the same. Just pair me someone to handle the shooting part, as needed."

"Wouldn't miss it, Han," Sar says by way of volunteering. He looks around for Maeve, expecting the meanest of all possible mean glances to be pointed at him. Oh, hey; she volunteered before him. This brings a smile to his face. His arms cross in front of his chest.

"We'll have to find somewhere to dig in. And make sure to bring plenty of explosives. Maybe we...pop a power relay or something...draw them into an ambush," Sar says, moving to look over the rotating Starkiller plans.

"Yavok will keep you safe, Doc." Gren pipes up from the doorway. He's back, dressed in his Imperial-style flightsuit, and looking far more comfortable for it. He's had been hovering, listening to the briefing, upon his return. He doesn't have anything else to add, mind you. He's certainly not volunteering to run around a playing tag with stormtroopers when there are TIEs to frag. He nods to the other pilots present, as he walks further into the room, and takes up a position near them.

Karas looks up noting Han Solo and he smiles when he and Chewbaca speak about their plans and the team they will need for the surface. Leaning back looking at Starkiller base, he's not gone up against anything like this, so he already knows this is going to be hard, "What are the engagement operations?" he asks. "Something this big, they aren't going to be lax in it's defense."

There were a few people Han expected would go without even questioning them, Ambrosia was one of those people. He looked out at the others, so many of them were young and far too 'new' to this for Solo's comfort. He knew what this mean, he knew that those who went on this mission with him probably wouldn't come home.

Han's eyes went to the doctor. "Right." He said back at her softly. "A wise woman recently told me that you just 'pull the trigger'." He said at Maeve. "I'd loan you one of my spares, but that same wise woman ran off with it. Glad to have you along, doc." Han said to her then with a slight nod before he looked to the others.

"Grab all the gear you got for cold weather enviroments. Scopes say this is a bone chilling place, so pile on the underwear, kids. Gather up your gear at the ramp of my ship." Solo's eyes went to Karas then, when he spoke and he then pointed at the Holo Projection of the Starkiller base.

"Your primary objective is to cause as big of a distraction as possible. This doesn't mean you have to do anything stupid, like get yourselves killed. Draw out as many Stormtroopers as you can... get them to chase you, bottle-neck them, use the environment to your advantage."

Han glanced to Chewie and then back to those watching. "We'll give you the all clear once we're done, and then we get back to the Falcon."

He motioned with both of his hands. "Watch the fireworks, from a safe place... far away." He said in a sarcastic tone.

Ambrosia poorly veils a smirk behind the sweeping of wispy hairs from her eyes. "It's a basic 'versus' drill," she spells out for any kids new to the fight who think they've got what it takes to keep some stormies busy. "Cept 'stead of woods, it's snow." A pause. "Maybe not as concealing, but I got some memory of the stuff and we'll figure it out." No time to dig deep trenches, but maybe there's some old snow cam fatigues dry rotting around somewhere that she can dig up. "A few strategically placed detonators and we're gold."

"Here," Sar says, magnifying the holo and pointing at what looks to be a relay. "We dig as quick as we can, blow that up, and set up a shootin' gallery. My cannon's fixed, so I'll be able to put plenty of bolts down-range. Long enough that they'll have to re-evaluate. While they're doin' that, they ain't worried about y'all," Sar says, looking at Han.

"I'd appreciate that, Major," Maeve replies with a nod toward Gren followed by another, even more solemn, nod angled toward Han. "I'll do what I can, Sir," and allows a brief glimpse of a grin to form on her face. "It.. ah.. sure beats having to administer first aid to a Hutt," said in a somewhat lower voice but in a tone that holds a ring of truth and a fine edge of relief to it.

Gren nods toward Karas and David. "You two....worry about the mess of TIEs that we'll need to deal with while the ground pounders murder bucketheads. It'll be a target rich environment...don't lock in on one target." He folds his arms across his chest and falls silent once again. He doesn't have much else to add, so he falls back to spectating. Not having too much to say, David nods at Gren. He's too busy processing what happened in his own mind to really pay attention to everyone's declarations of support. The main thing running through his mind, before anything else, is "I would've been dead if I'd stayed." All his former colleagues are dead. Even the person he'd sworn to protect is now nothing more than space dust. Every single person he'd call a friend is now on this base, most of them in this very room. So, he decides to speak up. He opens his mouth, but the words don't come out. Every thought he forms in his head falls apart on the way into the room. Speechless, he sits back down. Nodding his head to Han, when Sar does a closeup, he takes in what he sees, "We will make sure to keep you all covered, that you don't have to worry about. Depends on how many Eyeballs." he says. "Which is going to be a lot. We will do our jobs and make sure we keep them off of you." he says. "Can we get a look at the surrounding area? Also what will be our entry point?"

Han looked at them each in turn and he listened to their responses... he softly nodded his head. These weren't his soldiers, he'd run away from this fight. There was guilt inside him for even coming back here, here and now, to give these people orders in the first place. But it was desperate times, and... he had some experience in matters like this.

Han's eyes went to the face of David Ironside. "A lot of people died today." He told the pilot. "But not us, kid... We're still here. And we got a job to do." Han wasn't the Starfighter commander, so he wasn't going to fill the pilot's in on their part in this, that was for others to do.

"Your entry point comes in, X-Wings that is, after Chewie'n I take down the planet shields. Your Commander will be informed and he'll give you the go-ahead to hyperspace in to do what you do best... Blow those damn screeching short range fighters right out the sky."

"This is longevity mission. Your endurance and stamina is going to be pushed to the limits here... stay focused, and we'll be back here celebrating the destruction of this thing before you all know it."

Ambrosia's head bobbles faintly in rhythm to Solo's pep talk. Maybe she's nodding to self, maybe she's got one of those cochlear implants tuned into some sweet tunes, maybe she's having an episode. Whatever the cause for her nodnodnodnodnodnod, she's rolling a quasi-vacant expression over the other more attentive faces, already making a mental list of which boots she wants for this team. Done. Done, done, done. "Army grunts, see me after before y'all go racing for your gear. Falcon's a little too snug for everyone to come and play." Obviously. So who's it gonna be!? Not looking like she's bent on celebrating anything, Amber cuts a sideways look to Han with a raised brow.

"Alright," Sar says, sliding his hands out of his pockets. "Time to get ready, then," he muses to himself. He rubs at his stubble and turns to make his way out of the conference room. He's got a lot of guns to go through before he decides on the perfect once, after all.

Gren nods to Karas and David..."We'll go over final flight assignments shortly. Get with your ground crews, make sure that your birds are ready to go. I'll have a final flight plan cobbled together by then." The Major notes Sar turning to leave, and heads to follow him. A brief nod is given to Han, Amber, and then Doctor Zavir. Yavok, on the other hand, retrieves a hand on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself out there, Sar. I didn't bring you back to die on some stupid snowy base. Good luck." And then, he too, is off. Karas has all the information he needs, the is going to be his first major engagement compared to the other missions he's done. "May the Force be with us." is all he says. He gets up and starts to walk out as well, once he's at the door he stops and looks back, studying the face of the others, than he turns and leaves.

Standing as the others that were seated rise to move about the room, Maeve walks around the chairs to take a closer look at the map of the area they'll be moving through tomorrow. "Layers upon layers, thermal material, hand warmers, hypothermia treatment kits, yes yes," she is making notes on the datapad as she's standing there. "Hmm.. eye protection from glare as well," she adds this to the notes then heads back out to make the walk back to Medical.

“Hey, Zavir,” Ambrosia eventually catches up to the doc while her crew nervously awaits to see who gets to draw the shortest straws. “You got uh...little of the joint juice?” She makes a motion to inject her elbow with something. “Ya know, flesh or otherwise?” Cuz she’s got both. “Been a little stiff, lately.” But still 57 yrs young! On that note, she trots back to play eenie meenie minie moe and nabs four green folk to accompany the more experienced soldiers on the ground.