Episode 1: Not A Tavern

[Sjet]

+++

In the game of Sabbac there is one card above all that a player fears to get: the Skifter. The Skifter can be any card at any time, constantly shifting through the game in value and face. One moment you might have a run of Staves and a winning hand of Perfect Sabbac: only to find your 5 of Staves turning into the Mistress of Air and Darkness. But then again you might have that the worst hand in the history of the game, only to find that you suddenly possess that one card that gives you the game winning Idiots Array.

Skifter was like a flighty mistress: a brilliant point of pleasure in the dark, but also capable of ruining your life if she felt like telling all.

Caleb Dexon held up the Skifter card he carried in his pocket wherever he went, and tapped it three times on the tables cracked and stained surface. Tap-tap-tap: the cards face flickered from the 5 of Staves to the Lord of Swords. Tap-tap-tap: now it was the Mistress of Shields. Tap-tap-tap: Now it was The Fool. He’d been sat here in this dingy room for an hour now, and there was only so much he could take before he began to fidget. And so he had sat, for the last ten minutes, tapping his fixed card on the table stop waiting to see who would crack first.

The conman, or the smuggler: and judging by those subtle lekku twitches, he was close to cracking her. She’d either kill him or this would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and wouldn’t that make the Bothan in the ill fitting suit happy as a Jawa at a junk sale? He decided to push the odds further in his favor…

“Oooooh...for a fast ship and a sturdy one, a great dame and lucky one, a quick run and a moneyed one…” he raised his voice to finish the old spacers shanty “...A tall drink and another one.”

Azaria snorted and leaned further back in her seat, “if I wanted to be serenaded I would’ve stayed upstairs with that dirt merchant Krusk.” Her lekku twitched irritably.

“Only he likes to sing, ‘Okay now he was close, tried to domesticate ya, but you’re an animal, baby its in your nature,” she gave a cheeky grin and thrust her chest and chin along to the tune. “Well you’re a good girl, I know you want it… do you really think I want that? Some greasy Bothan? Tryin to get in my pants? I’m not a good girl - I hit him hard, yeah, I hit him really hard yeah, right in his glands… hey hey hey!”

She winked and discarded the Idiot card her perfect Moderation had shifted to. “Now the question is,” she locked eyes with Dexon as she slowly drew her new card, “will this be good enough to beat whatever you’ve got on that Skifter of yours?”

He looked at his hand: a pair of Staves in all the right values, a Master of Fates and a high value Shield card: and the Skifter was settled on the Mistress of Air and Darkness. His hand was, what you might call, a bad hand: negative sabbac. He brought his cards together in a put upon nervous gesture, tapping the six cards on the table top to flatten them out. He then nervously opened the cards out again, and sighed in exasperation.

He laid the cards out as he had before, except now the Mistress of Air and Darkness was playing the role of the Fool: in his hands he held the Idiots Array, the hand that won all.

"Its all..." he said with a easy smile, reaching out for the credit chits on the table "...In the cards."

the heel of her boot caught his hand and pointed it to the table, as she leaned forward in a manner that displayed the much admired flexibility inherent in female Twi'leks. "How about I let this one slide, and you get to keep your fingers?"

The hum of her vibroshiv filling the silence “And we play another game without cheating, neh?"

“I like to think of it less as cheating, a much maligned statement if ever there was one.” he said, gently pulling his trick skifter out of his hand and making a show of tossing it into a upturned hat on the floor “I prefer to think of it as creatively assured success.”

“Are you two quite finished?” came the gruff, perpetually harsh voice of their Bothan overlord and keeper as he walked into the room. His suit had been stylish when democracy had had its day in the Republic of old, and the sweat stains that glared out from under the arms spoke of the worlds poor attempt at winter climate. The Bothan took a seat in the corner of the room, and sat down with a sigh that was more hydraulic than relief, padding his damp brow with the back of one hand.

“Well…” Caleb said with a smile, tapping the flat edge of the vibro shiv that was planted in the table “I’m through if the lady is through?”

“Hmm, typical!” Azaria winked, releasing his hand as she did, and pulled the larger part of the credits towards herself with her foot. The shiv she left in the table. “The man finishes too soon and I’m left to take care of things myself - I hope this won’t be a trend in our relationship…”

The Bothan’s fur was almost audible in its jealous bristling. Azaria leaned back in her chair, so she was looking at Krusk upside down, lekku tips brushing the floor, and pityingly changed the subject.

"So where are the new kids you've been grumbling about so much?"

“Security is escorting them down from the surface as we speak.” The Bothan grumbled, replacing the cloth in his jacket pocket as he sat resigned to the baking heat “Most of them have been disarmed to as much extent as possible. But when you’re dealing with mercenaries, politically minded activists and people who are wanted by the Empire and our very own allies...well some things we take on faith.”

“Knew a girl called Faith once.” Caleb mused knowingly, shuffling the sabbac deck “It didn’t end well for me then, I doubt it will end well for us know. Especially given the….peculiar nature of our first assignment for the Rebellion.”

“There is nothing odd in the task being assigned to you.” the sweating Krusk retorted.

“Said the Imperial Senator who found a million credit chit in his sofa cushions and called it pocket change.” Caleb laughed, before shaking his head and looking at Azaria “Want to put down a wager that one of our new recruits will put a blaster bolt through the mutts head when he hands out the briefing?”

"Assuming I don't first?" She laughed, pulling the shiv out of the table.

Krusk made a displeased, strangled sort of sound, like a cat bringing up a too-big hairball.

"Oh calm your whiskers, fluffy."

"Now, now...manners maketh the man and the Twi'lek." Caleb intoned as he leaned back, shuffling the cards slowly about in his hands "Let us not antagonise the man who holds a sword above our necks until after we have proven how useful we are. Then when we're indispensable we can piss him off to no end."

"He might have a sword over your neck, but I have been working with ol'bushel britches here for some time now...he just withholds the info I need to go do some avenging." Azaria shot a glare at Krusk, who glared back.

"When I find that info, I will share it with you. But until then, you owe me." Krusk turned back to Dexon, "And just because I let her sass me, doesn't mean you get the same luxury. Aside from her usefulness, she is easy on the eyes, which is endearing. I can't say the same about yourself."

“I’ll have you know this mug has wooed the feminine royalty of three planets and thrice as many executive assistants across the Corporate Sector. The only reason that you’re not fawning over me, Krusk old man, is that I have my charm set to stun instead of stunning.” he grinned at Azaria “Have to keep myself in check, deadly weapon that I am.”

He cocked his head to one side, and looked towards the door.

“I think I hear the first of our new comrades in arms tromping down the stairs. Who do you think will be first? The explosives in the suit? The cyborg sans warranty? Or maybe the urchin made good?” he lift his hand, wiggling his fingers as a credit chit appeared between his rolling fingers “I have a five cred coin saying the Leather Lady is the first through the door.”

Azaria snorted and tossed a credit onto the table, “You’re on - I’m betting its that glitchy invisible boy Krusk here snagged up last week.”

“I still say that until I see this lad, he’s more paper work than person.” Caleb sighed, rubbing the back of his head “But knowing my luck the Skifter of fate will provide me a Fool in-”

“Do not fear! For my esteemed Master, his most exalted and honored personage, has deemed to present himself to you for your pleasure.” Came then piping, electronic voice of J3-VE8: the brilliant anodised blue steel protocol droid who preceded a black hole of ego and wit that was-

“OTHAR VON KLENNER!” came the bombastic voice of the same man who bounded through the door to the briefing room. Broad shouldered, blue eyed, blonde curls swept just so and hip cloak and robes tailored to one inch beyond pretentious.

“Gentleman Adventurer!” the droid piped up as it waddled to a corner of the room to be out of the way, as the pale skinned ego swaggered in and took a seat at the head of the table right next to Krusk.

“Oh no.” Azaria pressed her forehead against the cool plasteel table. “Not him!”

“I know! I should be off saving the lives of poor defenceless colonists beset by the evil whims of their Imperial Masters. But the old Bothan here!” the bombastic twit of human being said as wrapped an arm around Kursk’s shoulder “Let slips that there might be a mission in the offing! A chance to thwart the plans of the dread Emperor himself? How could I possibly refuse such a request for my aid!”

“Get. Your. Appendage. Off. Of. Me.” the Bothan spy master said in a low rolling growl of a thing.

Klenner was able to pull his arm free, just in time for the first member of the 7th Allied Special Operations Group walked in...

[KendleRJ]

Dantooine (pronounced /'dæntuin/) was a pleasant world of grasslands, rivers and lakes. The planet was located in the Raioballo sector of the Outer Rim at an endpoint of Myto's Arrow, the other endpoint of which was in the Obtrexta sector, though Dantooine itself was still far removed from most galactic traffic. It hosted a small population spread amongst single-family settlements and small communities with large land holdings. Its sentient population consisted primarily of simple Human farmers, though Dantooine was also home to the primitive Dantari race. Native wildlife included the kath hound, the iriaz, the kinrath, and the graul.

Boomer read it all and sighed. It sounded pleasant enough, but what it said to her without fail was 'armpit of the galaxy'. Away from prying eyes or plotting souls, away from the Empire that had been rolling all over the Galaxy in ever-widening circles. She sat in her personal ship, a small snub nosed corvette that had been outfitted to handle long-range runs with some extras that had become necessary the more she had delved into the illegal transport of goods, services and organics of all shapes and sizes. The HUD spit out the information about the planet, local time, and scanned the surface. Yep. Not much going on here. Yet. Her chrono beeped and gave her the expected transmission time of the minor shit being held over her head. But once attention had been drawn, it would be hard to erase. Timing was everything, and as she approached the landing coordinates, she held her breath. Not much could ruffle her feathers, but deconstructing her carefully constructed alias, and her exposing her elaborate distractions to the proper authorities simultaneously in over 23 systems could do it. It would have been like lifting her rock and watching her sorry carcass trying to avoid the pecking creatures, clamouring for her blood. The Hutts alone would make it difficult for her to ever raise her head again, if she managed to keep it at all.

Unpleasant thoughts swirled inside of her mind as she sent her Ship Ident to the surface. No one here had the need for such tech; it would have been for those like-minded souls that lived beneath the rocks, avoiding notice and being paid well for their particular brand of decadence. Or the cowards that had to control her through fear and desperation; kind of like the Empire. Her hackles rose and she bit out her response, "Corvette Boomer Niner requesting landing instructions." 'You bastards better make some sort of note that I'm here, before that slick little snot-nosed Sullustan gives me up.'

"Corvette Boomer Niner, you have been cleared for landing. Proceed on present heading; drones will take over and guide you the rest of the way down. Control Tower, Over."

"Negative Control Tower," she replied. "Manual all the way down, or no deal." She would be hanged if some two bit, half-trained 'droid would fly her ship. "I'm the driver, dumb ass. If I can't land it, then I don't have any business being here, do I?"

Landing lights flashed beneath her in a shrouded mass, and she negotiated the atmo and the rest of the air traffic before setting her baby down on a spot the size of a blood tick. Her chrono reminded her to hurry up and she ground her teeth a bit as she waited for the ground crew. "Anyone want to maybe shake a leg?" she said, punching the ramp controls, lowering them to the surface. Stepping out into the air, she said angrily, "Look, I'm expected, and no matter what you say..."

"This way."

Curt, and to the point. Someone had appeared almost like magic. Hallelujah; someone who understood the finer points of punctuality. She followed the form quickly without seeming to rush, and she shrugged, settling her jacket on her shoulders squarely as they walked. She was only 5'4" in height, and thought that the suit made her look taller. Her hair, a honey blonde, was upswept and out of the way as her intelligent aquamarine eyes scanned everything for potential threats. They reached a door with a set of controls and she realised that this wasn't her final destination. The doors opened, and revealed a small, metallic box. Swearing under her breath, she bit the corner of her lip, tenser as the time ticked down. Stepping into the turbo lift, she noted the direction they had begun to travel: express trip down to the hell that was going to change her life.

Smoothing her gloved fingers through her hair, she stood resolutely, feeling each vibrating tick against her wrist almost in time with the beating of her heart. She didn't like this, not one little bit, and she wondered how long it might take before she found out who was behind it all and might discover the finer points and inner workings of a Boomer bomb. But not today. Apparently this guy had scanned her and had her remove all of her obvious and less-than-obvious weaponry, regardless of application or potential. She'd finally finished unloading the last of her array of toys before she felt slightest shift as the lift settled. A hiss of the door opening was the only sound that had broken the silence between the doorman's request and her arrival.

He pointed past her shoulder and said, "There."

"I want that shit back ya know," she said over her shoulder, but the figure was already gone.

Before her was a closed door and an empty corridor that said only one thing in her mind: 'This way to the next stupid decision in your life, Kendle Thrace.'

So, with very little time left to report to offset the initial transmission, and nothing else to lose, she tugged her gloves into place. Stepping to the door, she straight-armed it directly into the rear end of whoever was standing in front of it. She hoped she'd done some damage after the day she was having.

Her face was blank, emotionless, and she only said one thing. "Boomer." She scanned the rest of the occupants and let a scowl creep out to sour her mouth. "Now call off your dogs and erase the tapes."

Waiting for a moment as a vibration bit into her wrist, she let out the smallest sigh. "Right on time. As long as the little shit who sent me here has kept his end of the bargain... What do you all need transported or blown up?"

~Tags fellow Soggies

[T-Prime]

"I think you owe the lady some cash." Jarion's voice rang out in a jovial tone as he shimmered into view, leaning on the wall. He tipped his new hat to Azaria, "We can discuss my cut later."

Jarion strutted across the room while counting.

"3... 2... 1."

On cue an alarm rang throughout the base. He tapped Krusk on the shoulder as he passed by to take a seat.

"Let them know I'm here, present and accounted for. That's a good lad."

[Melissa Richards]

[Amanda Rose]

Slowly and gracefully, a long cobalt blue leg tested the room's floor. It was lightly covered by a sandal that accentuated her ankles and revealed her toes. A gold anklet appeared on the left leg as the second leg entered the room. With another fluid motion, thighs and hips appeared. They were garbed with a tight tan cloth-like material that hiked up the being's body to purposely make whomever it was look more appealing, or at least direct a viewer's attention to the space between the being's legs.

A bare cobolt blue midriff followed, showing off a slender, graceful and yet rather toned body. The navel seemed to be a small and perfectly round button-like center. Two breasts entered the view of all who were watching. A matching tight tan cloth-like material covered the female's breasts but the material was slanted and cut in such a way that it would take little effort to push it aside to get at her bountiful bosom.

Next, came a slender neck wearing three necklaces, two gold, and one with white stones. One might think they would clash but somehow the placement of the necklaces and the slender neck made the pattern beautiful rather than gaudy. Finally, a nymph-like face appeared. Attached to it, where on a human there would be hair, was a lekku wrapped in golden adornments. Light blue eyes that nearly blended in with the rest of her skin looked at those assembled and immediately focused on Azaria.

The woman introduced herself in a soft, silky and slightly sultry voice. "My name is Tavlia and I am at your service." She gave a slight bow but as she did so, she allowed her lekku to wave in the Twi'lek unspoken Ryl language, asking Azaria, ~Is the Bothan your Master, as well?~

tag - Azaria, others for impressions

[BanksAT]

Vice had waited, lurked really, outside for a while trying to figure out how he fit in here. All of this was new, odd to him. He'd never figured to see sunlight living that far down the Underbelly. Let alone see other stars. This ... paradise of a planet was totally outside his expectation. It was weird.

He watched the lovely Twi'lek make her grand entrance, slipping into the room quietly behind her before the door closed. He found a quiet corner and took a seat.

[Sjet]

In they crept…
In they stalked…
In they sulked…
And in they strode.

They were the wrathful, the fearful, the cowed and the proud. A woman with dangerous toys. And a woman with dangerous abilities. A woman at ease in the sleaze of a smugglers den, and one that was all too comfortable in the effect her skin had on the world. The cocky thug with a chip on his shoulder, and the kid who had eyes for the stars but hands fit for picking pockets. In the eyes of the Rebel Alliance these dark days were some of the most desperate the galaxy had seen since the early days of the Clone Wars.

Which made these rouges and fool the desperate measures needed to win. Show time.

Caleb Dexon smiled warmly to Azaria and waved her off from standing, as he rose to his feet in a single smooth motion. He turned to the assembled and smiled as warmly as one might welcome guests of long ago acquaintance, his arms spread wide.

“My name is Caleb Dexon, and I have one thing to say to you all: If you wanted out, your last chance was when you were in orbit.” He said, before bringing his hands together in a hollow sounding clap “You have all been selected for either your flexibility in your careers or your very singular abilities. You would be of a mind that working for the Rebel Alliance is something patriots do, but as we all know we are not patriots to a new world order.”

He turned his smile on Krusk and waved him down.

“At ease old man, least you blow a Bothan brain cell. Let us be frank here and assume we all know that this civil war will see one set of tax collectors being replaced by another. Crime will still be crime, injustice shall be the dish of the day for many, but perhaps the worst offences will be mitigated by the removal of those that are rewarded for such tasks.” He returned his eyes to the group at hand.

“We will not fight on battlefields beside soldiers, and should we be so lucky we will not see a space battle that doesn’t consist of out running planetary guard units. We are to become the 7th Allied Operations Group, the dirty tricks department that says fine things about assassinations, and won’t think twice about rigging an election for the right price. We are to do the unspeakable things that we find coming to us naturally.” He chuckled darkly, eyeing the dark lady in leather “Though some restraint from our more…experienced companions might lead to a long streak of survival in our future.”

He took a step back and clapped his hands. An Astromech droid in the corner of the room rolled forward, tweedling to itself as it brought its holo projector to bare. In the same instance as the hologram shimmered to life atop the table they all surrounded, the lights dimmed for better viewing and dramatic effect. Dexon and his theatrics flare…

Above the table a dagger like shape began to form. Too those that flew in space the shape was an all too painful reminder that the limitless sky had guard posts: an Imperial Star Destroyer. At a kilometre and a half from nose to the flared tail, the massive star ships were studded with hundreds of turbo laser batteries and ion cannons. Thrown into the mix was the company of Stormtroopers and two squadrons of TIE fighters, making a single Destroyer an effective means of ending any planetary unrest. It was a visible reminder to all of Imperial control.

And then next to it, glimmering into being, was a distorted version of the same.

It was two thirds the size of the Imp Star, and much narrower than its larger brother. If the Imp Star was an arrow head the size of a mountain, then the vessel next to it was a hold out dagger as long as a town. Its hull was pointed and painted the traditional Imperial grey, with a command tower arising from a staggered structure at its rear. But what made it stand out as anything other than a stream lined and foreshortened Star Destroyer, were the quartet of round budges that grew out of its hull just before the bridge tower. With a wave of his hands Dexon turned the hologram around, so everyone could see side by side comparison.

“I present for your viewing pleasure the first confirmed picture of the Empires latest tool of interplanetary diplomacy: the Interdictor cruiser Night Witch. It has a fraction of the firepower of an Imperial Star destroyer, a single squadron of TIE fighters and costs seventeen times more than its big brother.” Dexon leaned over the table, the holograms blue light illuminating his face “It is worth that much because it is able to generate a stable moon sized gravity well artificially, and at will.”

Every spacer knew that a ships could not enter hyperspace whilst trapped within a planets gravity well. This was an area of space usually a light second or so from the edge of the planet’s atmosphere, but any significantly large body could create enough of a ripple in space time to make a hyperdrive fail. It’s why hyperspace navigation was such a bore, plotting courses that didn’t intersect a gravity well that would see your trip ended by slamming into a sun or a planet. But to be able to make one artificially, to be able to drag ships out of hyperspace at will…

It would be an end of smuggling, and a useful tool to set traps: you could pin down your enemies and allow your forces to pound them to scrap, all the while knowing they could not retreat to the far side of the galaxy to lick their wounds.

He then grinned.

“And we, my merry band of misfits, are going to steal it.” He grinned, before adding “Well the schematics and technical readouts at any rate. Azaria, would you to care to carry on the briefing or should I?”

Tag All

Caleb Dexon
7th ASOG
Commander

For those wondering what a Interdictor would look like.

[Melissa Richards]

[KendleRJ]

Kendle narrowed her eyes and gave a look around the room. This Dixon character had given the floor over to some Azaria person, and the payday was not even on the table. The Rebellion, and... these criminals. Her mental description was being kind. She noticed the others, and raised an eyebrow at them, shifting her shoulders and cracking her neck. It might have been more intimidating if she had been possibly a foot or two taller, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in a myriad of other skills not necessarily listed on her resume. It was safer that way, wasn't it?

"So, there's more." Of course there was more, there was always more, and the Bothan seemed to be someone important as well. No Sullustan though, and she sucked her teeth in frustration. Now if her unasked questions were addressed, like, 'If they risked their collective necks, would the Empire be stopped from manufacturing this threat to her livelihood?' or even, 'Would the Rebellion be able to exploit the plans?' or were they just going to destroy them... which only would be a set back... She wouldn't have to ask. But that was going to happen as surely as her successful wrestling of a gundark. Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she tried to will the building headace back to the recesses from whence it came. Too many variables... which was why, she guessed, they had so many people.

What did the lady with extra mercenary needs do? She knew her own skills, but the others? Maybe they were all just various shades of smart ass... Or bluster. There was a lot of potential here... but until she had an idea of what everyone could or couldn't do? All there was to do, was watch. And listen. At least for now.

Tags

[Azaria]

“And we, my merry band of misfits, are going to steal it.” He grinned, before adding “Well the schematics and technical readouts at any rate. Azaria, would you to care to carry on the briefing or should I?”

Azaria nodded and moved up beside Dexon.

"The ship is at the Kuati shipping yards, specifically the Kuat Drive Yards, and is being closely guarded by the personal army of it's brainchild - Moff Thichis Kuras. He's a very suspicious son of a gundark, and has tightened security at nearly every conceivable entry point." She smiled, "only nearly, though."

"What's the payout on this? Other then helping you be rid of an expensive ship that could ruin smuggling and your escapes?"

Azaria peered at the creepy looking human female who'd spoken. "That depends entirely on your situation... it might be living a few more days, or it might be a solid gold chamber pot. Who the flark cares? We're going to grab the plans and blow the hell out of this ship before it wreaks up our day, and if you don't want to help out, miss muffet, I hear there is a nice safe position opening up in the accounting division."

tags - Shadow stalker

"As I was saying," she tossed her lekku back and shoved her hands into the pockets of her flight suit, "Our fine Bothan friends have friends of friends who've found a few nice little holes in Kuras' security perimeter. It won't be easy, its likely suicide, but since most of you were slated to be spaced anyways, I am thinking we'll just have to say 'to sith with it' and have at 'er."

"Good show!" Othar jumped from his chair and pumped his fist vigorously into the air, "lets give 'ol Pally what fore, with a chip chip churrai and blacken his eye!"

A collective groan rang out through the room.

"I have a question," another voiced piped up, this one strangely metallic. The cyborg boy.

Azaria sighed and glanced at Dexon, eyes asking 'why can't we just shoot them now and go blow stuff up?'

After a moment of silence, she tilted her green head towards Jarion. "Yes?"

"Why have you enlisted the services of the rest of these fine ladies and gentlemen? Not only would it be nearly effortless for me to sneak in and acquire the data you seek, but I also have the home court advantage." He pushed his hat a little further back on his head, "Hell, I'll even sabotage their copy free of charge."

For a moment, Azaria was about to write his comments off and insult his parentage, but then paused and thought a moment. "Good question, I suppose. It does seem like overkill."

She looked down at the plans in her hand. "We need so many operatives, largely in part because each of these holes in security will only allow one or two persons through before they lock down. We need enough people inside to ensure each stage of the operation goes smoothly, and concurrently. Like I said, the Moff gets his jollies from making security plans and implementing them. He has almost single handed beefed up the Empire's security forces, the Bureau, and COMPNOR."

"Oh pish tush," Othar broke in again, "I'll pop in there, spank him good, and - Bigg's your uncle - save the day, m'lady!"

"I... I just... Dexon!" She reached over and smacked him on the shoulder, "you're it."

TAG - Dexon, et all.

A JP by Azaria & Jarion Tass