Operation Blackest Dawn

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

The group heard a pair f footsteps behind them. After a double take, the leader realised it was three pairs. Of course, that could only be one group. The four spies turned around to see the four Mercenaries tracking toward them. A woman and two men. One of them had some spiffy looking goggles that probably offered some superior vision for him. The other was wearing a tight black suit, but had no goggles for themselves, and no helmet. Just his odd hairdo.

The leader, as it appeared, was the one with the armor and the goggles. The appearance didn't offer them any real view on what race he was, or on his own physical attributes. He was a proffessional, they could tell. Ready to kill or die; ready to destroy or save.

Behind him a strange girl of a race that this particular spy had never seen before, though the appearance did remind him of something he'd read, and he immediately thought vaguely of a reference to a similarly described race that could use some sort of empathy to see objects past...Often to self depricating effects. The man suddenly thought not to let her touch him, or allow that one into any of their facilities, however her power may be useful in finding out what had happened to their agent.

The final one was the one with the odd hair. It was shaped in a pony tail behid him, bright and vibrant, and had a large outcropping hanging forward and drooping to cover one eye. That eye seemed odd, and the spy could make out something mechanical on it. Perhaps even in its place. The hair was the most outstanding feature about the man, and distracted the spy. it was just so ridiculous and...Well, it seemed quite feminine as well; though the spy assumed that would be up on the list of things not to say.

An odd group, they were. The four men who had been approached by the three were Upezzo Keeza members all, and each one equipped to their teeth with weapons. They wore light, black clothing that allowed excellent movement, had tightly pressed ( So they wouldn't jingle ) grenade belts with pistol holster on them. And no just any pistols, either, heavy blaster pistols. Expensive ones, very accurate, very deadly. One of them had a verpine shatter gun, deadly accurate projectile that could pierce a great deal of objects. Not to be messed with. The fourth one, off to the side, had a beam rifle strapped to his back. A deadly group.

They all turned and pointed, to a small sqaure structure in a clearing ahead of them. The group were somewhere in the slums of Taris, below any of the buildings. This particular area was quite clean of any Rakghouls. That is, clean on the outside. Who knew what lurked within the various ruins and sewers around this area. "There." He said. "That is the entrance to the facility. Tightly guarded. Four guys on the outside, one alarm. The front door is...Quite ponderous. I suggest either getting the codes for the door or using a spike on the computer terminal. Come, I'll show you the schematics. Erm...You are the mercenary group, right?" He asked, suddenly getting the thought that these might not be them, and paranoid as it might have been, reaching, subtly, toward his weapons.

That put Graffion Maruhuey, flanking the group, on the defensive as well, and though he didn't outright go for it, he narrowed his eyes and was ready to flash out his own blaster, and then roll into battle blades ready...

( Think of the entrance as something like the imperial bunker entrance on Endor, going underground into a vast area. )

[Mr.Bøbert]

((It's amazing how much detail you can come up with when you're extremely bored at school. xD))

Dak Hykor watched the four black-clad figures turn towards him. He stole a quick glance at his wrist-mounted datapad to make sure this was the right location. It was, though he knew that already. He had memorized the map already, and there were several landmarks around telling him he was right where he needed to be. He did a final mental check of all his equipment, like he always did before an Op.

He was wearing a new suit, one the techies back on Hoth had just come up with. It had dozens of tiny tubes running through it, all containing water. The water's temperature was controlled by a small black box on his back, which was in turn controlled remotely by his datapad. The small black box also doubled as a mount for his rifle. The suit could be set to any temperature to make him more comfortable in extreme environments. It was also somehow able to absorb light, making him harder to see. He didn't know how; he let the geeks back on Hoth think about the science of it all. As long as it worked, he was fine. It also had dozens of pockets all over it, perfect for storing all his little gadgets. Another useful feature was that not only did it absorb light, but it also absorbed energy, such as blaster bolts or particle beams. Sure, he probably wouldn't survive a blast from point-blank range, but if the shooter was firing from down a long hallway, he should be fine. Not that he was going to stand in the middle of a hallway and actually let someone shoot at him. And the downside was that this variant of the suit, though extremely durable and tough, wasn't made for absorbing projectiles or shrapnel. It would do little to protect him from those. The one that did stand against projectiles and shrapnel was still being worked on by the techies. That one had been easy to make, though now they were trying to blend the suit he was wearing with that one. Right now he was field-testing this suit.

Next was his rifle. He didn't really need to mental-check it; he could feel it's comforting weight on his back. And back on the ship he had cleaned, checked, double-checked, and triple-checked the gun so many times he was sure he could find all the little pieces if they were scattered about a junkyard. It was a silenced projectile weapon, much quieter and less conspicuous then a blaster rifle. Firing those things was like jumping up and down yelling 'Hey, over here! Look at me!'. They were too loud, and they sent a big glowing ball of energy flying towards the enemy. It was hard to not be able to tell where it was coming from. His rifle, on the other hand, was much quieter and more invisible, at least with the silencer/flash suppressor on. There was barely a flash as the bullet left the barrel, and it only barely made a quiet pfft noise. And it was less-likely to suddenly malfunction then a blaster. It had no electric parts, aside from the electronic HUD scope. Dak's favorite part, though, was the launcher mounted under the barrel. It could fire any of his many gadgets, from sticky cameras, to grenades, to toxic darts.

Like the rifle, his pistol was a silenced projectile weapon. It was even quieter then the rifle. The only electronic part was his EM-jammer, a small gadget mounted on the bottom of the pistol's silencer. It sent out a beam of energy that could disrupt almost any electronic device. Very useful for temporarily disabling anything from lights, to computers, to alarms.

His goggles, all three 'eyes' currently giving off a faint green glow, had several different vision modes, such as Night vision, Thermal vision, and EM vision. The Night vision mode detected infrared light, making it possible to see in the darkest of places. The Thermal mode detected heat. Red was the absolute hottest, a violet-blue was the coldest. It was helpful for seeing people, even through thin walls and doors. The EM vision, EM standing for Electro-magnetic, could detect, basically, electricity. Helpful for finding hidden cameras or electronic traps. There was one more mode, X-ray mode. It worked basically like a tiny X-ray machine. However, like any X-ray machine, it gave off faint radiation, so he didn't use it often. Lastly, there was the basic flashlight option. All of the 'eyes' could give off a bright green glow, working like three green flashlights. It could be adjusted to be dimmer. That mode he pretty much only used when there were others with him that didn't have NVG's of their own. It also came in handy for scaring beings. He chuckled at the many memories of turning the three green 'eyes' on a dim glow, and the varied beings running off screaming.

His datapad was not merely a datapad, but a tiny supercomputer, always linked via a subspace signal to Hoth. He could receive any data from them, from notes, to pictures, to maps. It was also useful when slicing into computers. Just plug it in, and depending on the level of security the computer had, in a few minutes, you were in. Or you could use the remote slicing system, though it was slower.

Next was the many tiny gadgets stuffed into his suit's pockets, from sticky cameras, sticky shockers, knockout/toxic darts, grenades, and more. These were all launched from his rifle's launcher.

His mental check finished, he strode up to the four black-clad spies, Fira and Graffion, the ESA's two newest recruits, beside him. He knew Graffion could handle himself if things got rough, though he didn't think they would. This was going to be an easy Op. Which was why he had brought Fira, the young Zeltron/Kiffar girl, along. And as always, just in case, there were two Eyes somewhere around here. Eyes was the recently-adopted nickname for the Stealth Operatives. There were two of them, a standard SO team.

"There," the leader of the four spies said. "That is the entrance to the facility. Tightly guarded. Four guys on the outside, one alarm. The front door is...Quite ponderous. I suggest either getting the codes for the door or using a spike on the computer terminal. Come, I'll show you the schematics. Erm...You are the mercenary group, right?" His hand subtly drifted towards his weapon.

"No," Dak answered, his voice completely flat. "We're from the Intergalactic Droid's Rights Union. Can't you tell?" His voice changed back to a serious tone. "We could slice into the system, though it might be easier for me to grab one of the goons and get him to do it. Now let's see those schematics..."

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Graffion stared scrutinizingly at the four spies that Dak conversed with. His stance was a calm one, but in the heart of the matter he was ready. His instincts were honed overtime so that no surprise could ever truly harm him for very long. It was a series of difficult jobs, deadly seasons, hostile lands, and living life on the edge that had gotten him to where he was now; the very peak of his skills, physically fit for anything. It was also something that had left him hollow inside, with few pleasures left to him but his line of work. And like all those past jobs he would perform this one exactly as he always had; with the utmost proffesionalism. Needless to say, the defense didn't stand a chance.

He also did a quick inventory. He was wearing simply his clothes, no armor needed. Graffion didn't plan on getting shot at too much. Aside from the tight dark clothing, which also abdsorbed light so as to make him difficult to see and had a hood so he could cover his blond hair, he had an array of weaponry. The first of which was his trusty blade; a long dagger sheathed on his thigh. It was a vibro blade, of course, and could slice through most light armors and slip through the seams of almost any heavy armor. Aside from that, he had one flash grenade, courtesy of ESA upon request, and a silenced slug throwin' pistol; the same type as Dak's, minus the EM jammer.

The standard equipment aside, he also came equipped with two, long slender blades known as scimitars. Very lightweight weapons. In the right hands, scimitars were perfect for slicing through skin like butter. Quick jabs or accurate slashes across the throat could put an enemy down quick, and in a melee fight, which it always seemed to come down to around Graffion, he could block and attack with speed and precision. These two weapons were in sheath's around his waist, tightly strapped so that they wouldn't clink onto his belt line as he moved, and instead of a long leather or metal sheath, he had one made of cloth; to cover the glint of a blade and so the no sounds were made when he drew the weapon.

Along his back, he had what some might call a highly unorthodox weapon, but what he called 'good fun.' A Wookie-bowcaster washeavy and loud, but powerful and for a one man army, or three man, it brought just the kind of chaos you needed in a battlefield. He didn't plan on using it unless the cover was blown and things got real tough; but then, he also hadn't pinned anyone to a wall with it in quite some time.

Perhaps one of the most devious things about him was his mechanical eye. It was a camera for all intense and purpose, but it had many different optical settings; Thermal, Night Vision, Electromagnetic, and ultra-violet. Not only that, but it could take recordings and display an informational hud. Perfect for aqcuiring PID on a target; although PID didn't really matter to Graffion all the time. Sometimes, he just killed everything in the building just to be sure. Today, however, he knew he'd have to be calm. Didn't want to be classified as psycopath on the first day, right.

The two respective leader turned to a small large device then. It was the size of a cardboard box, and portable. The lead spy hit a button on the side and a schematics appeared.

"The tunnel goes down at semi-steep slant for two stories before opening up into another door. This will lead you to a hallway that leads either left or right. On the left side of the facility is the testing labs; on the right is residential. The security office will be on the lab section; our schematics on the labs are untrustworthy, however. We suspect their doing illegal things, therefore they wouldn't have an accurate public file. We had to hack into the last galactic republic moral inspector's office computer just to take a look at this-"

"Moral inspector?" Graffion interupted.

"Yea. To make sure they ain't torturin' animals or doing anything illegal in that facility. In fact, we're here lookin' for dirt to make sure they *are* doin' something illegal. Anyway, we don't know if the schematics are right. You'll have to break into the lab section; no easy task, and then find the security office. It should be here-" He pointed to a room on the schematics on the far right side of the lab section of the facility, "But like I said, we don't know what other pretty things there will be. Remove evidence of our agent here by destroying recordings, logs, and images. Use the camera systems to search the prison bay for her, and if she's not there, try and inspect the rest of the facility using the cameras. While your at it, see if you can use any of your nifty tricks to find some evidence of moral coruption. Anything that seems like its illegal is."

He thought for a moment, "Ah, right, getting into the lab sector. You'll need to either find a lab worker in the bunk sections and force a code out of him, or you can find a high ranking officer and get the master override code. Any high ranking officer would have a private chamber in the residential sector. You could always slice the terminal or blast the damn thing, but that would raise alarm. Security inside is a sloppy operation, you shouldn't have any real trouble. However, its once you get into the lab section that it gets tight. Or at least, last we checked. We haven't had any eyes or ears inside of the facility for several days. On another, odd side-note, they transfered eighteen lab assistants and two scientists out of the facility the day of our agents disappearance. Several guards went from inside to outside, and the 'secret' exits of the facility, probably for emergencies, have been sealed down tight. It's strange, you know. We're thinking its because they think they are breached, and because they probably are doing illegal things, they are deporting all untrustworthy people out and locking down so our agent can't escape and leak any sort of information. In other words, they seem more focused on keepin' our lady in than keepin' others out."

( There's the first hint to the _____, oops, can't tell you yet. )

[Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm]

The ride in the space ship from Nar Shadaa had been... eventful. No, she couldn't even lie. Before she even took off with the group she was wishing she had stayed back at the base and just hung around with everyone else and see what was there. Instead she was on this boring mission, sat in the ship as they travelled through hyperspeed watching the other two members either engage with themselves in deep mental conversation or go around checking their weapons and polishing their rifles. One seemed to have taken his apart several times over their journey and she suspected that he didn't really know how to put his rifle back together again - looking forward to the time when it actually came to shoot it and wondering what sort of explosion to expect from it. Her time had been spent wandering around the ship and not touching anything. Not a thing. Her attention span had briefly been revitalised when they stepped off the ship, only to find a boring world of boring people. She wandered after the two she had came with, not even hiding her lack of patience with the situation and letting out exasperated sighs every few seconds, most unintentional.

Then they had effectively headed underground, and she felt like she might as well have just stayed on the ship and counted the numbers of buttons in every room. Her legs trailed lazily behind her as they descended, almost tripping several times from the uneven paving and loose ground, and surrounding rubble, not learning from her previous mistakes and continuously stumbling whenever she fell back into the lazy motions. If she had been wearing anything more than just some leggings, boots and a shirt she would have tried to bundle her arms into the materials to keep warm, but without anything like that her skin was subject to the elements as they wrapped around her in a deathly embrace. If she didn't have pink skin already she would have definitely shown signs that she wasn't used to the weather and wasn't particularly enjoying it either. After walking for what seemed like forever she spotted a few figures who seemed to be waiting for them. Without even bothering a second glance she fell back a few paces and dropped behind one of the men, deciding they'd be good enough for her to run a bit if needed.

When the two groups started talking she half considered just joining in and pretending she knew what was going on, but knew she'd be told not to interfere and so just stood around pacing from side to side and looking around, expecting something mildly interesting to appear to break the drudgery of conversation she had no interest nor knowledge in. Her eyes scanned around, then dropped to her hands as she fumbled with her top, trying to make it warmer somehow, then back up to scan the deserted wastelands. It was as its name implied - deserted, and a wasteland. She moaned under her breath, determined to not want to have to wait here any longer than she had to, before dropping her gaze once more to stare towards the ground as she silently patrolled behind the two soldiers. Again she tried to warm herself without success and raised her eyes up to scan the horizon just in time to see someone, or something, move. She shivered and moved back immediately to the safety of muscle, not even bothering to think of getting her blaster out. The one she'd just been given.

"Not to be rude, but can we go now? I kind of can't be bothered with this place anymore."

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Graffion didn't reply to the Zeltron. ( She's zeltron, right? ) He simply gave her a cursory glance, a simple scowl, and turned back to the conversation. Zarene had gotten on his nerves since they'd arrived, since before they'd arrived. The woman had no discipline and no restraint. She lagged and dragged, and sighed every moment. To him, her quiet sighs of impatience were worse than a bitching Kath Hound, yipping and howling all day. At least the Kath Hound knew what it wanted and tried to get what it wanted. Still, he'd probably kill the Kath Hound if it were up to him, and he'd have no complaints killing this woman either.

In fact, in the back of his head, he fantasized about it. But he couldn't disobey orders on the first day of the job, especially not in such a way. He'd probably wind up having to blast his way through an angry Dak and a mob of Upezzo Keeza spies just to get off the durned planet if he did what he wanted to do. The thought occurred to him that it wasn't a bad way to spend an evening on Taris, but quickly subsided. With luck, there'd be plenty of killin' to do on this mission, he didn't have to waste ammo on 'friendlies.' Besides, he liked to believe he had more discipline than the common psychopath.

This is why he usually worked alone.

~*~

The lead spy eyed her for a split second, mentally questioning Dak's choice of soldiers for this mission. Graffion Maruhuey and a strange Zeltron lady did not seem in his mind the ideal stealth team. Graffion was a famous assassin, but he didn't always display...Self control...And the other one was certainly not displaying any desire at all to be here. Still, it was not his decision. Strae's orders were to get these guys to do the mission, specifically. Why? He had no clue. The team he had assembled would probably be more than enough for such a simple mission. Still, the lead spy at least admired Dak himself. Cool, collective, a sense of humor, and proffessionalism. All traits that this particular spy respected. "So, you guys can finish your plans and take the targets out then, if your that eager."

[Mr.Bøbert]

Oi.... I was afraid that this might happen, Dak thought. It appeared Fira was either bored and hadn't quite grasped the concept of the chain of command, thinking she didn't actually have to be here, or she had seen something and was trying to get an excuse to leave the area. Or both. Dak wasn't sure which one he hoped it was. Of course, she was just a young girl.

But there was no turning back now. They were here, and they were going to complete this mission. It was going to be in and out. Find the operative, kill anyone who'd seen her too many times.

"Alright, let's get going." He pulled out a small plastic cube from one of his many pockets. He squeezed it, breaking it's seal. It began to expand, into a piece of black, crumpled up fabric. He grinned.
"These are always useful," he said. He picked up the fabric, revealing it to be a wrinkled black overcoat, bearing the insignia of a Republic Military Investigator. He put his pistol holster on the outside, then put his goggles in one of the overcoat's pockets. He put his rifle behind a junkpile, then tossed a cube to each of the two in his group. "Sometimes stealth isn't always shadows and sneaking around," he said, making sure none of his gear made huge bulges under the overcoat. "Sometimes it's blending in with the people, not the darkness. Alright, here's the plan. We are going to simply walk up to the front door. We are going to try to get as much information out of the guards as possible. If they do not cooperate, kill all but one. We'll interrogate him the hard way. Don't worry about cameras, these suits have... Well, something in them. The cameras will only see black blurs. And if it does come to that, make sure the camera is one of the first things to fall; we don't want anyone to come running out, guns blazing. Fira, if you want, you can just wait here until we go in...."

[Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm]

She scoffed at the prospect, not liking the idea of having to go off and kill a group of men but ultimately not caring either way. She just didn't want to be left hanging around with a bunch of strange men she'd never met before, and not to mention whatever else was hanging around in the area that she wasn't aware of. Some animal or scavenger or monster - she had no idea, and a part of her never wanted to find out as she made her way slowly after the group who had started to walk further into the undergrounds. Taking her cues from him, she pulled out the cube similar to his and after some rather lengthy struggling with it, formed her own version of his coat. By now she had resigned herself to not answering his stupid statement, suggesting she wait for them and instead was right behind them, though it was clear she was not going to receive any particular help from the two adults who had probably killed several before. Sighing she forced herself to remain clearheaded and relaxed somehow.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

After a quick observation, and watching Dak open his cube, Graffion released his coat and put on the disguise swiftly, almost without mistakes. He had watched carefully Dak's proceedure and copied it himself, with a few imporvements, shifting his wookie-bowcaster over to his shoulder, and staring at it disappointedly, trying to find a way to sneak it in. After a moment, he just shrugged and threw it on his back. It may be unorthodox, but even Republic Inspectors had to protect themselves, right? "How about I stay back and borrow your pistol, I can use the EM jammer on the camera, and if things get messy I can lend you support from afar." He patted his bowcaster happily and said, "Don't worry, I won't miss and kill any of you."

He had a slight grin on his face, but not because of his comment. He had been slightly disappointed by the girls decision to come along; less fun for him. But he at least liked that she didn't bother answering, just following behind. Any answer would have been superfluous, and she obviously wouldn't stay behind. Even one like that didn't want to sit back and do nothing while everybody else did the mission. In fact, especially ones like her wouldn't want to stay back. He also got a mild amusement from her fiddling. When she got the suit on, he simply shrugged.

The group and the door was just ahead, and had not yet detected them "Your call Dak." He said in a low voice, grabbing his pistol and offering to trade.

[Mr.Bøbert]

((apologiez for the extremely late response x.x))

"Sure, just don't break it," he said, half-jokingly, tossing the pistol to Graffion and taking his. It was a little lighter because it didn't have the EM-jammer. He put it in his holster.

"When I give the signal, jam the camera. Alright, let's go," he said, and walked forward. The security guards gave him suspicious glances, but didn't say anything until he was a few meters away.


"This area is restricted," the guard who appeared to be the leader said in a deep, commanding voice.

Dak reached under the coverall and into one of his suit's pockets, pulling out an ID card. "Colonel Tomer Ephin, Galactic Republic Army Investigation Corps. We're going to need to ask you a few questions."

The guard took the card, looked it over, then ran it through a scanner. A few seconds later, the computer gave a chirp, and the guard handed the ID back. Dak suppressed a smile. The eggheads back home were good at their jobs.

"Alright, you're clean, but I'm afraid I can't give you much information. This is a private business."

"And it is threatening Galactic Security," Dak said in an imposing tone.

"We'll handle it."

Dak put his hands behind his back, pretending to act bored and annoyed. He gave a few motions with his index finger. "Sir, need I remind you..." he began. The camera began making mechanical clicking noises.

"What in the--"


Dak whipped out the pistol and pulled the leader to have his back facing him. He grabbed the man's neck in a chokehold with his left hand and put his right hand with the gun facing the other guards. He fired.

Once they were all down, he put the barrel of the gun to the leader's head. "You're going to tell me everything about this facility that you know," he said, his voice dark.

((okay, deceit, because you're the only one who knows what's in there...))

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Graffion sat poised behind cover, only his weapon and head sticking out, hidden in shadows. The pistol in his arm was pointed straight at the camera, and didn't even waver once. In his other arm he held the wookie-bowcaster, finger on the trigger and the caster pointed in the general direction of the guards. Neither arm shook, moved, or wearied, as he used his excellent discipline and strength to keep his muscles taut and ready but allowed enough relax in his body so that anything he did would be precise, just as he had done when he was a child, using the blow torch in the factory. Because with a torch, one mess-up is almost irrepairable.

And so he didn't. The moment that he saw the signal he activated the electric pulse mechanism, and the camera jammed. He lifted his bowcaster, his aim not wavering a bit as he swung the heavy weapon to bare. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, he did not get to use it. Dak moved so fast that the guards barely had time to think, and in moments the other guard was in submission.

"I really can't say!" The guard shouted, "I'm a member of the reserve guards! I haven't been in the facility my whole life! We were told that nothing, absolutely nothing goes in, and to keep the doors shut at all costs unless given a direct order. We heard some shouting from inside a few hours ago, banging on the door, but that's it. Honestly, I don't know!" The guard pleaded, his eyes shifting from his dead friend to the alarm button, as if calculating his chance of success. His cowardice won over his loyalty though, and he decided not to go for the button.

Graffion snorted, and spat on the ground, "I don't believe him." He interjected.

"Look, I'll even open the doors for you, just let me outta here!"