Log:Sith Empire: Manifest This

A team is deployed to investigate an anomaly.

OOC Date: October 1, 2021
Location: Coruscant
Participants: Sith Empire: Tamsin Cas, Tarq Najjic, Xavier Harcourt, Flex'ka Vana, ST-K7020, Anlace

Several hours ago, a civilian shuttle bearing much needed supplies docked with the Harbinger to release its cargo. While inducting the gear, Troopers ST-K7020 and ST-A1025 encountered an anomaly with the manifest; a cargo crate with no matching serial numbers was unloaded. Following protocol, the hangar bay was on lock down and the crate quarantined while the civilian crew experienced Imperial questioning. The result revealed that the Captain admittedly did not check all cargo and verify their manifest before arriving to unload. This is a serious offense.

Imperial intelligence asked that a small team be deployed in place of the civilian crew to return to its place of origin, a discreet hangar in the lower districts of Coruscant well-rumored for smuggling. Of course, the Imperials had no idea they were accepting cargo from such scum, but they dare not pass up an opportunity to investigate ties to local resistance, if this scenario was a worst case.

The civilian freighter named Eiperion descends from atmosphere. Its personnel hold and control cabin inhabited by the team dispatched to investigate. Well trained pilots relay the docking code on the frequency band still programmed in the comms station. Funnily enough, they receive an answer and coordinates to land.

<<"Freighter Eiperion, we have received your docking codes and have begun to open the secure hangar doors. You may proceed through the docking slot, now. Welcome home.">> Sounded the civilian voice on the other side of the comms. The interior of the ship is notified by way of the intercom system, where an Imperial voice properly alerts the crew of the situation.

<"We have made contact with the hangar control. We will be landing shortly. It was a shot in the dark whether we would get an answer, do prepare for the worse."> The intercom clicks off.

ST-A1025 rises up from their seat and brings around their stun baton. It is not activated yet because she was not certain of what situation awaited them down below. She crosses the distance to the ramp, and prepares to disembark once the ship has calmly landed.

Everyone is aboard the Eiperion.

Tamsin Cas, tasked to accompany the team on their investigation, had settled herself into one of the jump seats for the duration of the transport on this erstwhile civilian vessel. her robes were in order, her weapon clipped to her best, her other accoutrements stowed on her person as she awaited the shuttle's arrival. Only once they shuttle had been cleared, and the ramp was opening, did she rise to her feet, moving to fall into line slightly behind and to the left of ST-A1025. She would go when the signal came to breech the relative peace and quiet of the hangar.

Xavier reclines lazily in his seat, hands behind his head, and looking up at the ceiling of the freighter. This was the sort of mission that brought back memories. The covert scouting missions that merited more information than it did a body count. Though the verdict is still out on how this particular operation will go. It hindered upon the factor of intelligence versus instincts of their targets. Instincts usually won out and that usually meant less people left to question.

Regardless, a win-win, really.

As they come in for a landing, Xavier rises from his seat and heavy, booted steps take him over towards the closed ramp to wait; a simple sword emerging from his robes as he goes and his hood up over his head. For now.

There's a rustle of his cape, and then the Kuati among them is standing beside ST-A1025 at the ramp, his dual lightsaber in his left hand. "Tarq Najjic will screen as he can. Take - full - advantage." One emitter of the hilt is pointing down and forward. "Move fast. Need evidence; maybe prisoners." After a pause, he adds, "Please, no heroics. Your lives - worth far more than theirs."

Then he nods to Anlace. He's not claiming command, but they haven't worked together without Ferren's presence before. Time to forge some norms and bonds. "All yours, trooper."

Similar steps follow behind Xavier when Flex'ka Vana moves out of the seating area, his robes billowing behind him with each step. His hand clutches a lightsaber tightly, ready to spring to life as soon as it becomes necessary. And in the former officer's experience, sooner or later it will. A smirk forms on Flex'ka's face when Tarq refers to Anlace as 'trooper'. He'd been an officer in the First and Final Orders, but that was before he'd been awakened to his true calling. Now, rank and status just seems.. superfluous.

ST-A1025 is not the only Sith Trooper at the ramp for long. ST-K7020 rises from her taken seat in one smooth motion using only a lean forward and the lift of her legs for momentum. In her hands is not a stun baton, but her blaster rifle. It is not set to stun, and the safety itself is off. Stalking to the ramp, K7020 relies on a wider stance to compensate for the jostling of the freighter as it switches from sublight engines to repulsorlifts and begins to set down at its designated platform. <"Planning on tickling the targets to death?"> The quip is shared between the two Troopers over their battle net rather than broadcast through the helmet. K7020 shifts her weapon into a low ready stance, stock against her shoulder and arms squared off around her torso so that it's forward. Only at the mention of 'maybe prisoners' does she change the selector from kill to stun.

<"Understood, my Lord."> The ship settles without much ceremony, and ST-A1025 turns their helmeted head to look over the team by the ramp before softly pressing the release to lower the ramp. Hydraulics hiss noisily and steam spurts from the release jets as the platform lowers to an angle. A voice cuts over the loud hissing. "Hey.. Labecca.. did you deliver it? Did the Eff-Oh take the cargo?"

ST-A1025 took point down the ramp and came into plain view of the person talking and the people gathered behind them. Sudden fear was written across their face as they realized this was not Captain Labecca at all. "OH DREK!-- THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE.. GET THE BLASTERS! FIGHT.. WE HAVE EFF-OH HERE! GET THE BLASTERS!" The group parted quickly breaking into smaller pairs to rush toward other locations within this large hangar bay.

Upon brief inventory, the crew from the Harbinger can see things like bomb-making stations, signal jammer modifications prepped for installation, comms gear both illegal and military grade, racks of weapons and various crates of unmarked gear and goods, likely stolen.

<"Positive identification required. Civilian personnel are engaged in illegal activity in violation with Imperial codes. Deadly force is authorized, quarter optional. Engaging opposing forces with stun."> ST-A1025 announces and stocks forward, extending the stun baton to its full length and rotating it so it generated the humming electric charge. Blue electricity crackles off the edge of her weapon, and she jogs toward the briefly retreating occupants of the hangar, which upon first glance, number twenty (20) strong.

Tamsin, as soon as the report of engagement was given, moved further to the left of the team, allowing her footsteps to take her into line with a few of the dockworkers who appeared to be drawing blasters. It was only the space of a few seconds before she was in the thick of it, the first slice of her blade cutting down one of the workers before they could get s shot off, and then she twisted, moving to engage a second, who made good use of the supply crates at which they had been working to avoid her strikes.

From the first man at the bottom of the ramp, fear and panic spreads outwards like a wildfire. What starts as one call of panic turns into three, nine, fifteen. And by Oblivion, Xavier can feel every single one of them like little beacons in the void. The bearded chin under the shadow of the cowl grins a bright, toothy smile and with the flutter of black, Xavier moves on Tamsin's heels.

Bounding down the ramp, Xavier closes the distance quickly; finding the first of the alarmists as they run and criss-crossing his blade into their back. As the first target stumbles and falls, Xavier skewers him with a fatal blow between two ribs. A boot on the small of the dead man's back, he frees his sword with a yank and turns towards the next target.

Still plenty left to leave one or two alive. Not something to be concerned with just yet.

Flex'ka keeps the lightsaber deactivated, instead reaching out with the Force to lift a cargo crate into the air, then throwing his hand forward to send the crate into the ranks of hostiles. It might not be accurate, or anywhere near where he wanted it to come crashing down, but half of combat is psychology, and the idea that any loose object could be used against them would surely affect morale for the worse. Flex'ka glances to his sides, electing to simply walk into a covered position.

True to his word, Tarq Najjic proceeds straight down the middle of the ramp and among the enemy, activating his red saber and letting the blade whirl, making sounds like an angry wasp as he swings near to two of the insurgents and cleaves a third in twain vertically. "Drop weapons, or die," he yells, his voice calm. He doesn't stop his advance, nor expect anyone else to. If they drop their guns fast enough? There will be time enough to deal with prisoners. Between the shout and the rapidly twirling saber, he is making himself as big a target as he can.

K7020 wishes she could see the look of surprise on the sentient's face when it realizes that 'Labecca' is none other than ST-A1025 armored in the vivid, blood red of their glorious Empire. The resulting screaming and cursing that follows is joy enough. K7020 is not second in line as she'd been on Kafrene. This time, the trooper takes up the rear, with the Sith Acolytes proceeding ahead of her. The hardened soles that make up the bottom of her corrugated body glove tamp down the durasteel deck plating of the boarding ramp and K7020 takes in the broad hangar that they've landed in. Her telemetry pod and helmet feed both are ripe with images and readouts providing data on the insurgent paraphernalia. <"You're all under arrest for treason against the Sith Empire. Drop your weapons or you will be eliminated."> K7020 gives them a chance. She hopes they don't take it, even if she is using stun bolts.

Snapping her blaster rifle barrel up towards one of the target reticles indicated by blaster fire starting to light up in their direction, K7020's helmet feeds her information about its origin. She depresses the trigger of her weapon at the closest target by her standard, intent on getting one or two stunned to fulfill Tarq Najjic's directive. The bolt catches the corner of a crate rather than its target.

The attack began without a hitch, and blaster bolts promptly start crossing the distance toward the Sith task force. Several people are hit in the trade off, but many of dock workers are either killed, or laid out pretty good. ST-A1025 closes the distance to two, swinging the riot baton she has in hand to clobber one dock worker. They're sent sliding across the deck after a crackling impact of electricity. A second follows that one, and a third was intended but is missed with a whistling swing. A1025 is rewarded for the miss by a blaster bolt to the stomach! She stumbles back, recovers, and charges forward again.

There are still fifteen (15) suspicious dock workers doing their best to surround the invaders. Five (5) break away to head for power loader suits which are off to one side. The power loaders provide significant more armoring. They have not reached the suits yet, but can be seen running for them.

Tamsin, who appeared to have narrowed her focus to the elimination of those intending to shoot their way to freedom, continued the press, attempting to draw the blaster wielding workers out from their hiding spaces between the crates. One, she only just missed, and they went dashing off towards the power loaders, but two more fell as they tried to escape to follow in the wake of their compatriot. Two more bodies,a nd still, there was work to be done. The lightsaber wielding woman buckled down to her work.

A spin on his foot and Xavier dances around a bolt; the blade whistling in the air with a rotation of his wrist. In the chaos of the blaster fire, his senses scream at him and he turns around to see one of the troopers -- they look the same -- taking more hits than one person should. "Someone get on her defense or we've lost a gun!"

He feels it again; the sharp tug that pulls his eyes back towards the dock workers. They're making a break for some nasty-looking suits that could pose a problem. With a growl, Xavier runs up to cut one of them off... then prompty cuts the man's blaster-wielding hand off, as well. Another manages to slip past two more swings and Xavier is on the chase.

Amidst the carnage and exchanges of stun bolts and blaster fire, Tarq holds his ground in the middle. He draws fire, as intended, stepping aside before two bolts and then swinging the blade up to send a third right back into another member of Coruscant's resistance. He whips the saber up and over as he senses another bolt heading past him, but he's too slow to detect a threat that wasn't to him personally. He continues his total defense, walking forward to stay towards where the enemy is firing from the most.

Flex'ka breaks off with Xavier, lightsaber loosely in his hand now as he flicks the switch to activate it. Nothing happens. Not even a little spark. The last laugh of a disappeared Sith, maybe. Flex'ka pauses to stare at the lightsaber, tucking it back when even more flicking doesn't work. The shapeshifter points a palm at the runners as Xavier starts hacking into them, pushing one of the runners out of the way and into a neatly stacked shelving unit, which immediately becomes less neatly stacked. And noisy, what with the broken man lying in the debris.

The insurrectionists take offense to K7020's dogma and the shot blitzed out at one of their number. A hail of blaster rifle fire is returned. It bounces off the duracrete floor of the hangar and carves pockmarks into distant walls. The freighter they've come off of is no different. Carbon scoring is left across its hull. The blood red of K7020's gammaplast armor receives its own markings. It hits her in the left leg first, and that's enough to take her to her right knee. The other two strike her torso, forcing her to spill onto the deck in a clatter of armor. She keeps hold of her weapon, though, and still has a good leg and an arm not occupied with her rifle. She uses both these things to start to drag herself behind a crate. Breathless and filled with pain, her voice blurts out over their battle net. <"I'm hit bad."> Movement is agony, but agony is better than death.

Blaster rifle clattering to the floor next to her, K7020 pops open one of the compartments on her belt to retrieve a jelly-smeared bacta patch that she rips the covering off of. The layer covering the adhesive side is also ripped off, allowing her to apply the patch with a grunted slap against her body glove where she tugs the gammaplast chest plate to the side and can get at her abdomen.

The fire continues, but thankfully, the dock workers have not made it to the power loaders which would grant them a significant advantage. Nine (9) in total attack, and they focus their attacks on the soldier that go down. The one wielding the riot baton catches a second shot as well, slowing her down enough to cause significant failure in slowing the enemy.

<"Ugh!"> Anlace takes a knee, this time favoring her side, before forcing herself back up to continue the fight.

The dock workers are on their last leg, it seems, and two continue their run for the power loaders, with two others wounded and the rest back tracking to begin to abandon the facility and what's inside. "THESE GUYS WON'T DIE!" Laments one, who has consistently missed.

Tamsin, despite what she might have heard about the damage being taken on the Empire's side, continued the press, moving to eliminate the dock workers before they could make it to their escape route. Injury, damage, pain, were all part of the process, and two more fell to the saber's strikes, as Tamsin continued to press ahead, trying to cut off escape, and, if she could approach where the loaders were located, a third managing to escape her strike.

With one assailant now missing a hand and thoroughly incapacitated, Xavier has managed at least one for 'questioning.' The rest, well... the rest...

Pain. A lot of it. Wretching, burning, white-hot agony and then--- nothing. With a jerk, Xavier turned towards a stack of crates where the feeling had originated then blinked out. Teeth bared, the man moves like a phantom; sword down at his side and left hand snapping out like a viper. Of those attacking K7, Xavier's pulls on the tendrils of the Force to grab the weakest by his throat. A fling of his arm and the dockworker flies into the nearest wall; the neck cracking on impact, leaving only a body to rest in the aftermath.

He continues to run, rounding the crates to find K7 and drawing any further attacks towards himself instead.

Wounds are all too plentiful, but the acolyte with the build of a gymnast starts running as the enemy recedes toward an exit. With a speed that borders on the supernatural, Tarq sprints in among the insurgents, yet still finds time to slash at those he passes by. Two more go down as he runs, and he only slows as he nears the door, putting a hand down to add friction as he skids to a stop and lets momentum carry him back to his feet.

"Are not - going - anywhere," he says to them, crimson blade humming between them and him.

Flex'ka raises an eyebrow when a whole BUNCH of dock workers turn tail and run. A few others are still determined to reach the power loaders. Fine. Let the Sith be of assistance. Flex'ka stretches two hands out towards one of the coveted power loaders, raising it off the floor slowly. It floats through the air, at no more than the height of a grown human adult, until it hovers over one wounded worker. And then it stops hovering, with Flex'ka letting out a groan of exertion. That might've been the biggest thing he's lifted without touching it, and the strain shows on his face.

The crate K7020 takes cover behind is not designed to withstand a withering hail of concentrated blaster rifle fire. The bolts smash the crate and begin melting the outside of it to the point that flame licks where more than one shot hits. A staccato trio of shots light up K7020's right arm and it turns into nothing but bright, vivid pain. The overload of her nerve endings trips the failsafe in her brain meant to block out that kind of sensation and K7020 slumps over and goes limp. The gammaplast plates molded around her right arm look melted to the body glove, and the exposed gaps in her chest plate and thigh plate all show burn wounds where the blaster rifle fire ate through. It's difficult to tell if she's dead or simply passed out thanks to the fact that the only face she has is the intimidating scowl of the one created by her helmet. The compartment of her belt remains open, spilling unused emergency treatment supplies to the floor around her following the slump.

In quick succession, the remaining dock workers meet their fate, leaving those stunned and wounded, and the two that come skidding to a halt in front of Tarq, whose statement chills them to the bone. The red crimson energy separating them from freedom is enough to coerce their weapons from an alert position to being tossed on the ground. "We surrender.. don't kill us!" One says, clearly scared.

Anlace takes a knee after deactivating her weapon. She is near K7. <"We need medical attention here. Kay-Seven is down, vitals show she is still alive, though barely."> Anlace stays near her fellow trooper, though she's switched to the encrypted net. <<"Mission Debrief to command: The Task Force made contact with a local national private hangar and discovered a hub for illegal weapons manufacturing and insurgent activity. Combat action followed. We have several team members wounded in action. I recommend an additional detachment follow to search the hangar for more intelligence. Primary objective is complete. Secondary objective, unknown. Tertiary objective, unknown. We have a number of prisoners returning for interrogation. End report, ST-A1025 out.">>