Log:Resistance: The Brief Briefing (arresting Arcantael pt3)
Resistance: The Brief Briefing (arresting Arcantael pt 3)
OOC Date: December 4, 2019 (Optional)
Location: Rori
Participants: Ambrosia Greystorm, Leia Organa, Zonk, Syrus, Lofty, Callax Dalso, Merek, Zandra naMuriel, Jax Greystorm
Briefing Room - Rori Command Tower - Beacon Outpost, Rori >
A large hexagonal chamber, dark until motion activated lights activate audibly upon entry, with perhaps fifty chairs arranged facing a hologram projector at the center of the room.
Beyond a control console built into the base of the projector, there are only a scattered few control panels to govern the otherwise bare area's scant lighting. The smells of stale air and dust indicate that this room is not often used to capacity, which may also explain the crates stacked against the wall near the turbolift entrances, as the briefing room has become overflow storage for the rest of the command tower.
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
The lights in this often dark, quiet chamber have been glowing brightly for a solid three minutes as bodies file in one by one, two by two, from their respective jobs elsewhere on base. The motion sensors are finally getting their daily dose of active duty. At the center of it all is one motionLESS body (mostly) - Brigadier General Greystorm stands alongside the hologram projector, hands enclosed loosely around her datapad 'notes'. It's a vantage point enabling her to track every new entry with that flinty, green stare presently as impassive and cold as the machine itself. A ghostly image of the Smugglers Moon rotates in holographic orbit above the projector, casting a sickly sheen of yellow over the woman there.
Lofty]
Lofty brought breakfast donuts to the briefing to sate his (and everyone else's) sweet tooth, straight from the Adarian-style bakery on Naboo. In the box are iced Trammistan chocolate, muja fruit-filled, several iced Endorian maples, one with shredded Ishi Tib-cracked cocounut, two Yowvetch custard-filled, a single donut iced with dark matter sprinkles and a line of fluffy Christophsian powdered sugar donuts. It's an Adarian dozen, so more like twenty donuts. Some are missing already and Lofty's snoot and claws are guiltily powdered. Since the Talz is difficult to fit in a uniform, he wears a rank insignia on his bandolier, and a barracks cap is awkwardly fitted on his fluffy head. All of the humidity on Rori makes him look exceptionally fat but at least some of that is just frizz.
[Merek]
Merek has taken a little while to put on his uniform, and make it look the best in the black tone which is used upon it. Then he finds a place to settle in with his gloves on, into the briefing area. He has on the beret which he uses for his tank, while his stubble looks like he has not managed it in a while also.
[Syrus Volo]
Standing near the rear of the room is the Kiffar Jedi Syrus Volo, his solitary eye resting on the holo projection of Nar Shaddaa. His hand rests easily on the thick leather belt around his waist and he waits, doing his best to stifle the strong emotions that the subject of this briefing are bound to bring up.
[Zonk]
Not everyone in the Resistance gets invited to meetings and fed exotic donuts. Some people have to mop the floors out in the hallway because they didn't do so good on the last flight mission and are once again ON PROBATION.
It's mostly just Zonk who fits that description, really...
But the Resistance's Toughest Pilot is quickly becoming the Resistance's Toughest Janitor. A fact which may very well keep him alive when everyone else is unceremoniously massacred by the First Order in a few short months.
Wiping down the hall, Zonk looks at every passerby with the sort of resentment and hatred that only the most perpetual of losers is capable of feeling. It's the sort of feeling that Zonk manufactures every morning when he looks in the mirror and prepares for a long hard day behind the handle of a mop.
"Hey! Watch where you're walkin', Pudzos! I'm WORKIN' HEEEYAH!" Balling up his fist, Zonk threatens the passersby who look like they might have muddy boots.
And the ones who look likely to drop donut crumbs. But he's safely outside the meeting room, so there's no need for alarm. Just... get on past and sit down.
[Zandra naMuriel]
Wait there's supposed to be uniforms? Well, okay, Zan is in her wannabeajedi robes, that counts. She's been told as much. So, she makes her way in, offers a nod to the General and to the other two who are here, and finds her way to a spot she thinks is reasonably safe to watch all the goings on. The young pilot nods to Syrus as she spies him, and makes her way to stand by him quietly.
[Callax Dalso]
Quietly slipping into the place, Callax is pleased to lurk in the back like a fabulous shadow, hands in the pockets of his jacket and leaning against the wall by the door proceeds to hold it up. Because fashion, darling, is always a good foundation. Sometimes literally.
[Jax Greystorm]
Jax follows Merek in the room. He folds up a black bandana and tucks it into his pocket.He was dressed in civillian garb but was wearing the code cylinder, badge, or whatever the Resistance equivelant of the vistors pass. He gives the younger man a smile and silent tip of the hat slaute. Then breaks off to find a seat in the room and tryng to not draw attention to himself. As the Brigadier General begins her presentation, the man sits up and gives the display and the general his undivided attention.
[Leia Organa]
Leia arrives quietly, the hood of her white cloak up over her dark hair hanging in a single elegant braid down the front of her similarly colored Jedi Robes. The woman with her is every bit as quiet, but far more pensive than the General as she makes her way over to one of the seats to allow Leia to take her own place up beside Amber, a hand laid upon the other General's shoulder lightly, just to let her know she's here.
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
If the briefing room lights are motion-activated, then the brig gen is....touch activated?
So it seems to be, when Leia's hand lights upon her shoulder. "One crumb and that Houk outside will wear your pelt for a scarf," is Greystorm Sr's opening line of choice for this gathering. Her face has turned to target Lofty, bearer of snacks. "Or so I wager." She momstares a moment longer, then rolls her gaze downward to the pad half concealed in grip.
"For some of you present, this information will be nothing new. For others, a spark of hope or dread or both. So. While we're all still young..." a barely perceivable smirk upcurls in Leia's direction as the weathered soldier reaches to alter the hologprahic display by zooming in. WAY in. The coordinates next presented appear to be Parmac Towers, in Parmac Spaceport. Er...she dials it back, then swaps to another image entirely.
The unmistakably PINKgoth visage of one Domino. Formerly Domino Greystorm. "Recently, this wo...person," Ambrosia's mouth moves like it's sorting words around a bitter taste. "has turned over information to our Irregular cell on Nar Shaddaa. Further investigation has proven it to be valuable and - far as we can discern - verifiable. Amazingly. Still, before continuing, I'd like to again voice my strong recommendation that extra caution be applied when acting upon any ounce of gifted material from the girl, given her pattern of behaviors and love for credits, but...here we go."
The image shifts again, back to Parmac Towers. "Some of you are familiar with the name 'Oran Arcantael'," A glance fires aside to where Merek is sitting. "For those of you not, let me elaborate: Arcantael is a known asset to the First Order. A true believer in the crooked cause. Somewhere, in the folds of his brain, is invaluable data pertaining to the Knights of Ren and the Order as a whole, surely. Given the nature of the most recent encounter between he and one of ours..." Greystorm sliiiides her gaze off Merek and fixes it back on the projector. "It goes without saying that to arrest and detain the man in our stronghold would be cause for smiles, all around. And, with thanks to the investigating agents and our finicky little informant, we now have the means. We have the access codes to his personal apartment, to his ship, we have leads on his family on Coruscant, estranged as he allegedly might be...and we have other /intimate/ details regarding Oran's person and preferences," said with a little roll of her hips!!! Or maybe she was just stretching out a kink in her spine. "But I'll be sparing you those...bits." Yup. Greystorm definitely looks like she wants to spit.
"In short, our surveillance teams has confirmed /everything/ to be true and now the opportunity is at hand. We have snatched First Order operatives off the street before, some right from their beds, but I assure you this operation has a far greater risk of bodily harm, simply for what Oran's ability makes him capable of. An animal is never more dangerous than when it's pushed into a corner. Any who feel they are not up to task, I ask that you depart now, before I divulge specifics. Before we assign tasks." And she tosses the datapad onto the console, taking this thirty second break to stride over to Lofty and abduct a custard-filled something. Stoically. Without an ounce of enjoyment.
[Merek]
Merek looks up to the projector, while he listens to the information, not looking to be wanting any food while he takes a moment to watch. He inhales, while he seems to think about it, smoothing his uniform while he growls a bit, and tries his best to keep his attention upon the briefing while he seems to think back to the usual experience with the man also.
[Zonk]
"Who THAT guy? He don't look so tough. Betcha a little Houk Diplomacy'll get him uh..."
Zonk may be really good at mopping the hall, but he's not so good with the whole interacting with non-Houks thing. None of their jokes are about death and dismemberment, and it's clear from the vacant look in his beady little yellow eyes that he's trying very hard to think up an affable comment. But... as mentioned, he's not so good at that.
He's not that great at mopping either.
With his head peeking through the door, Zonk has apparently abandoned his post temporarily in order to see what the big commotion is about. Or perhaps he's just waiting to see if there are any donuts left over at the end of the meeting.
"It'll get him FLAT like uh... layin' down... cripple legs... like... Ektor's Mudder!" His smile grows so wide that every single one of his partially-yellowed teeth is displayed.
[Zandra naMuriel]
Zan listens quietly, but she's not a fan of such an Oran fellow any more than anyone else. She arches a brow at the sight of the PINKgoth, and shakes her head. Well then. How interesting. She watches the zoom out, in and in some more, listening to what all the General is saying. The young pilot and jedi wannabe doesn't have anything to add, being not so good with tactics and the like yet, but she's listening, absorbing, and learning. Her gaze goes to Merek with some sympathy, and then back to Amber. A thoughtful look on her face. Not even Zonk's interruption brings a comment from Zan, just a rather perplexed look.
[Callax Dalso]
Callax knows what's up over there with poor Merek - and while the appearance of the Princess...Jedi...General and her handmaiden was at first a bit of a surprise, the subject matter of the meeting easily explains it. Callax then slips across the way, ever so carefully, behind the assembly to come around and sit on his knees next to Merek. Quietly he reaches over with a pale hand to - if he doesn't flinch or look as though he might flip out and try to murder everyone in the room - give the Corporal's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
[Jax Greystorm]
Some days it doesn't pay to be a Greystorm. Some would say that's every day, today though for Jax it is definitely one of those days. It uncertin if it was the picture of his ex-cousin in law, the roll of his mother's hips in a way that suggested knew stuff about things that no son should ever know that his mother knows, or the fact he here to help capture a knight of Ren, but Jax pinches his nose and starts to rub his temples. Then he utters, "Sith Spit." Though he then quiets down and doesn't leave.
[Leia Organa]
Noting that none have left, "Under no circumstance are you to underestimate Oran Arcantael." Leia adds to what's been said, glancing steadily around until her gaze falls upon Merek, fixed on him. "A capture of this calliber comes along once a lifetime, we would have fallen upon ourselves for this kind of intel even a year ago..." Fleeting gaze shifting off to others, "But this rare opertunity has fallen into our laps and all of the gathered intel on his schedule, apartment, and ship codes has been verified.." Motioning with an extend hand to indicate the White haired woman seated amidst the gathered soldiers and pilots. She remains pensively staring forward at the visual represenation of the Knight of Ren.
Zonk's boisterous revelry is given a single snorting chuckle, "He is quite tough and well armed. He was present at the capture of Spearhead Base and the devistation of Mon Calamari where he was witness slaying a score of our soldiers without ever lifting a lightsaber.. His command of the Dark Side should not be questioned.. That said, we will be catching him largely by surprise." Her hand comes up from Amber's shoulder, one finger elevated, "At least until we've entered the complex. He will almost certainly know we are coming before we ever fire a shot."
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
"We will have snipers posted on the roooooof..." said with a look - a LOOK - at the purpled-muscled jokester lurking in the doorway. It's just long enough to size up the cadet with a judgmental sort of glare. One that a teacher fires off at a student who belched in class. A bite of custard-filled calories gnashes once, twice, thrice silently behind pursed lips before she swallows it mostly whole. And continues.
"Here, here," Ambrosia redirects lowered hackles to the visual display and again zooms in on the apartment tower, "Ideally one in the surrounding gardens and atop a civvie ship in Parmac A, disguised as a mechanic doing...mechanical things." She scratches at a phantom itch on the side of her face. "Our sharp shooters will be in place to keep cover over our comings and goings and to serve as a worst-case-scenario resolution, should Arcantael make it out of the building sans our escort. Parmac Tower apartments lack personal landing pads, so our infil team will be carrying the man through janitorial access to the rooftop for pickup."
A flick of the wrist changes the image to a schematic of the apartment's interior layout. "Our infil team will enter the one way it can. No sense in pretending to be someone we aren't, as the General said...he'll have sniffed us out, by then. If the man isn't meeting us at the door, we'll take it one room at a time. I want two sentinels posted behind at the door to keep an eye out. I want an operative in the turbolift at all times, monitoring who comes and goes and serving as a secondary warning system if trouble shows up, and I want a pair of eyes stationed in the lobby. I'd like to think 'Peaches' wouldn't be so foolish as to have misgivings about betraying her man, but I wouldn't put it past her, either. So stay sharp."
[Merek]
Merek nods a bit to Callax in thanks, while he takes a moment to shift his attention back to Amber, blinking a bit to Zonk when he speaks. Then it's back to the General, while he nods a bit. There is something that is mentioned which makes the man take a moment to pull his beret upon his features, "We will succeed in this, the Force will be with all of us."
[Zonk]
"Huh. That's a lot of fuss for one human. Lookit him! He ain't even got no muscles!"
Zonk is now all the way inside the room, displaying his muscles for all to see. He's mostly displaying the multiple layers of fat that surround them though. Layers of fat which he'd like to make even thicker, if the stare he's giving those donuts is any indication.
"Could just walk on up, ring a lingy-doo on the little door ringer. Then when he comes out just WHAM! Bonk him on the noggin' and make him flat like a bantha patty!"
With each sentence, he's edging closer and closer to the table upon which the treats rest.
[Zandra naMuriel]
Zan listens to the ongoing bits and pieces, curiously. She looks to Leia and then nods, at the assessment that their presence will be noted. He might not know how many or who, but he'll know someone's coming, she's in agreement. For what it's worth. So all the back up sharpshooters makes sense to her. Though her tactical knowledge is still very shaky, but she's not above taking this opportunity to learn from the pros while she's here. She glances at Merek as well, nodding in approval as Callax goes over beside him. She stays where she is, but a hand rests on her lightsaber hilt.
[Callax Dalso]
Once he's dispensed some camaraderie and calm, Callax gives Merek one of his prettier smiles before turning to the briefing once more. Upon mention of the preparations, he lifts a hand. "Excuse me, General," Callax says, "But if he's going to know we're coming, could we not feint him? Flush him out? Could gas him in his apartments, drive him further with the sniper fire right into the Jedi." He looks to Zandra and Leia, the only two saber-wielders he's aware of in the room. "Unless there's some aspect of his powers that would grant him that sort of detail to any visions?"
[Jax Greystorm]
"I have encountered this individual on a mission before with the Supreme Leader. He can use telekinesis to shatter a targets bones. He is not to be under estemated." He then looks at Amber, "What is the plan if he's not alone and there is another Knight of Ren at the residency? This could get messy quick."
[Leia Organa]
"Further, leaving the system will be made more problematic due to the presence of the Finalizer in system." Leia blows out a slow sigh, deliberately not looking in Winter's suddenly intense stare, hand flicking up in the air in her Hand Madiens direction, flittering gaze over to Callax, "That is a good suggestion, yes." Then to Jax, "I'll be among the Jedi present to apprehend him, though I have no pressing need to be primary attacker. I appreciate the sentiment..." Said quietly to the younger Greystorm, "The Resistance is stronger than the sum of its parts and it could function just as well without me... nor am I a particularly easy target to bring low.." Smiling defiantly as she looks up at the digital image of their intended target.
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
"Us old birds never are," Ambrosia murmurs with a low chuckle and another rub at her damaged nerves. "I'd like to avoid spillover much as possible, for as long as possible, Dalso." Ambrosia gives a sideways halfnod Callax's way. "Keep it contained, out of view of public for...well, however long that'll actually last. Gas is an option, but it puts other tower residents at risk, should it travel through the air supply. Our surevyors will know if anyone other than Oran or one of Oran's nocturnal guests is within the premises. Should one of his order unexpectedly enter the Towers, you may be advised to abort and regroup."
There's a long pause while she considers the schematic. "Normally, I'd prefer our groundpounders to take point on snatch-and-go's, but considering the special nature of our target, I'm in favor of subduing Arcantael by THE Force if able while our guns play a supporting role to keep the bugger distracted and under thumb. On his toes, off his toes, lose his toes, I don't care. Give him hell. General Organa will be calling the shots on scene. I suggest you obey her every suggestion. On that note.....Corporal Black."
The brig gen's head snaps left, followed by shoulders and the rest of her, to face the young man. "Given the nature of your 'relationship' with the target, I do not think it a bad idea to recuse yourself from this operation. However, I can understand how thirsty one in your position might be for vengeance. So. If you choose to participate in the infiltration team, I expect you /will/ keep your emotions in check. You /will not/ jeopardize the mission quest of apprehending him alive, nor will you jeopardize your team by acting rashly or, inversely, freezing in your boots. Arcantael will without a doubt relish the opportunity to remove less expendable appendages from your person, next chance he has. Best not give him one."
[Merek]
Merek looks between all those in the place, then he looks back to Amber, while he thinks a bit upon those words. "I am becoming better with managing all my emotions, I want him captured so he can answer for what he did to many people," he says, then he nods to the General. "I will be in position of support, and follow all my orders, General. I understand what it means to make a mission successful." He then puts on a face that makes that look like the case, and nods also.
[Zonk]
"And I will be here, moppin' the floor..."
Finally getting close enough to complete his mission, Zonk reaches into the box and grabs three different donuts, shoving them all into his face at once. Miraculously, he does so without dropping any crumbs or filling anywhere. Probably because it'll be his job to clean it.
More miraculously, nobody has asked him what he's even doing in the meeting, since he was not invited. Nor is he qualified, unless 'highly expendable' is a qualification.
"But good luck with the mission thing. Sounds like you'll need all your wizard powers combined to take out Lord Floofington there..."
A chuckle begins building up in his chest, but he suppresses it by swallowing.
[Zandra naMuriel]
Zan arches a brow at Jax, though she won't say she's as experienced as some of the others. She's quite obviously not. She does glance to Leia, and then back over to Jax, before she finally says, "I'm willing to help however makes most sense, if I am able." Not that she has any clue what that might be, and she may regret those words. And then there's Zonk... blink. blink. Zan steps back, going quiet again.
[Callax Dalso]
"The agent won't hurt people if it's an anaesthetic, sir," says Callax, his brows arched. "Or at least I cannot imagine that it would - though admittedly I'm not in command of all the information." At Merek's words, the pilot gives his shoulder another squeeze and murmurs some quiet encouragement before turning his attention back to Amber. "Could do it locally, assuming there are exchangers or ventilation access on that level. Could slow him down enough to keep him from murdering everything in sight. It's a thought. I'm at your disposal in any case, sir." Such as it is.
[Jax Greystorm]
Jax looks at Zan and shrugs before turning back to Leia and Amber."What ever is needed. I'm happy to help. Just let me know how and when. I can remember how to follow orders and with the force with us, we'll all get home safe."
Leia Organa]
Leia falls silent beside Amber, hood turned down now so that she's mostly hidden behind the white cloth. There's a reason she has Amber and it's not her moral compass: She's good at formulating plans. Now that the General has given her piece and spoken her fill, she makes her way like a ghost towards Winter who pushes up from her chair and follows along behind her. "May the Force be with us, tomorrow."
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
"Here's hoping," sighs Greystorm quietly through her nose. Re: a multitude of things. For a hot second, her pinching of nose mirrors Jax's earlier wince. "Rest well," she offers to Leia's back, followed by a minutely challenging 'what??' quirk of the brow to her shadowing Winter. Then it's back to Callax. "I'm not opposed to tossing a little drug into the room, provided everyone's got a decent seal on their respirator. If a couple neighbors zonk out, could be feasibly blamed on gas leak or some such in the pipes."
"You, Mop..." she almost said 'man' but let's be as honest as Ambro is with herself in this moment -- she doesn't know /what/ gender Zonk is. "Swabber. Those pants of yours look suspiciously like the remnants of a flight suit. I dunno what squadron you're in, but if your commander can spare you, I may have a use for you. If you think you /have/ got enough muscle behind all that weight to pin a scrawny, squirmy human lad down, eh?"
[Merek]
Merek nods a bit to the team, while he takes a moment to listen, then he offers a smile also to Callax while he watches while listening.
[Zonk]
In the middle of licking the sweet sugary goodness from his fat purple fingers, Zonk suddenly has the horrible sensation that someone is talking to him. Which is why the look on his face when he turns to face the speaker is both confused and trepidatious.
"Uh... pin down a human lad?" He appears to think that this is some sort of trick question, and looks around the room as if desperately searching for a hint.
"Why, General Greystorm... are you aksin' me on a date?"
Apparently she's not the only one who's a bit confused about genders.
[Zandra naMuriel]
Zandra opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it. Her gaze goes to the Houk, and then to the general and then back again. "I suppose this could be entertaining," she murmurs softly, though she does try to hide her smile. She shrugs a bit, but waits, not really to see what the reply is to the confused Zonk, but more to see if there's more info, or if they are free to go hang out with friends for a bit.
[Callax Dalso]
As does Callax who - having gotten back up, leaving Merek a bit more cheered, now tucks back against the wall, quietly inching toward the door until dismissal.
[Jax Greystorm]
Mama said there'd be days like this, Jax just shakes his head at Zonks question. The man offering a small wave to Zan. Then he produces a datapad. That had been turned off till that moment, "Cadet, could you uhm... Please do me a favor and repeat that statment. I need it for the family Lifeday card."
[Ambrosia Greystorm]
"..."
There's nigh palpable tension in the air while Greystorm decides whether or not there'll be hell to pay for Zonk's perceived joke at her expense. Slowly, her stony visage begins to crack and rather than molten temper leaking through there is, in fact, a...smile? It's in the eyes, really. A little crinkling, just there in the corners. More than existed before.
"Whatever, listen. You do a fine job filling a doorway. I reckon you can replicate this talent there, in Parmac Towers, and keep any panicked hallway lookeeloos from catching a glimpse of who we've got inside. Till the pompous little playboy's been secured, then I want you to sit on his ass in that transport, all the way to the brig. Lettem have a breath every minute or so if you have to, but you get the idea?"
Ambrosia looks over shoulder to the hologram and kills it with a push of button. "So that's a wrap, really. We depart 18:30, arrival 19:30. Our eyes on the ground will fill us in when we get there on any fresh movements in/out. I suggest you all get a decent night's rest between now and then. Dismissed."
