(Sith Mission) Rebellion Growing

[Kuran]

Descending through the swirling pink clouds that made up the atmosphere of Ord Mantell was something of a challenge for Sinya Kairn. Even with the pilot aids, he had never been much of a pilot. He could get from A to B, fire a ship's weapons, and that was about it. So descending through visibility zero clouds to the planet below was both unsettling and unnerving for the Sith Acolyte. For no real reason other than he didn't particularly wish to die, well, at all really, but certainly not from something as pedestrian as flying into the side of a mountain.

The simple, nondescript shuttle that he had been assigned glided through the atmosphere easily enough however, and after a few moments, the clouds parted, and the capital city, Worlport, loomed ahead. Almost as soon as the seaside city was in view, the shuttle's com crackled to life.

"Unidentified shuttle, this is Worlport control. state your business in Worlport."

Sinya considered for a moment before answering. This was Imperial territory after all, there was no reason not to identify himself truthfully. But on the other hand, those he was here to deal with could have infiltrated the starport control, and advertising his presence to his prey probably wasn't the best idea. So he erred on the side of caution. Pressing the answer button, he cleared his throat. "Worlport control, this is the shuttle Sessalis, carrying cargo to the Newport Hotel. Requesting permission to land."

It took a few moments for the controller on the other end to respond by giving him a com frequency and directing him to an auto-land beacon. Sinya pressed a few buttons and flipped a switch, watching as the shuttle neatly landed itself. As he shut the ship down to safe mode, he flicked a switch, and his briefing played throught the cockpit once more.

"Acolyte, the presence of political dissenters on Ord Mantell has been detected. You are to eliminate them...all of them." Followed by some technical details.

As it settled onto landing gear, Sinya got up from the pilot's seat and stretched his legs for a moment, heading for the ramp at the back of the shuttle. He stopped only to place his mask over his pale features, wondering how he would find his targets as he descended the ramp...

 

[SoloWing]

Okay, so maybe the life of a bartender wasn't the most glamorous of jobs; but Calden Timpesti found it a decent enough niche to fill. Although, if he was technical and honest, he was a bit more than a bartender by this point. A few years ago he'd bought the cantina off of the original drunken owner, revamped it a bit, and started turning a decent profit. If business kept up, he'd have the old debts paid off in another six months and the rest would be all profit.

Of course, location played a major part in the business he got. His little Cantina, aptly named The Pilot's Lounge, was situated just off of one of Ord Mantell's busiest spaceports. Odds where that once whatever smuggler or gambler cleared customs, the first place for refreshment to greet their eagle eye was his. How the previous guy never managed to turn a profit was beyond Calden.

The place lived up to its name. Calden kept it reasonably posh and relaxing. The booths and seats were a bit more comfortable than your average dive-- just a bit, Calden didn't want the drunks messing up good upholstery-- and the place was kept open and airy. Random bits of artwork and paintings adorned the walls, making it live up to its name.

Granted, his side business tended to help keep him in the black as well. His drinks loosened tongues and loose tongues let information flow freely. Calden had learned long ago to keep his mouth shut and his ears open. It was amazing what would come to light if you did.

Those who needed to know what he knew also knew where he was. He didn't get in as deep as some, but he kept his ears open. It tended to help out when an up and coming bounty hunter showed up and needed pacifying. Come to think of it, Calden reflected, it'd been a little while since someone had shown up seeking the latest gossip. He was past due for someone else to arrive and start poking around.

 

[Kuran]

The starport, beneath the painted façades and bright banners, followed a fairly standard layout, common to many planets thought the galaxy. So it didn't take Sinya long after exiting his ship to find the exit.

What was not surprising about the area of the city surrounding the starport was that it was primarily populated by cantinas, bars, and dives. Such establishments were in demand among spacers who arrived at the starport. What was surprising however was that amid the warren of dumps, dives, and cesspools, there sat, in clear defiance of the norm, a cantina who's sign identified it as The Pilot's Lounge. It was clearly kept to a much higher degree of cleanliness, that much was obvious from the outside.

It seemed a logical place to start. Chances were that this cantina serviced higher class patrons than the others. Removing his mask upon second thought, he chose to stow it in an inner pocket of his clock, then pulled the hood down. Now he simply looked like a traveller, though perhaps a morbid one.

Stepping across the street and through the door, Sinya was equally surprised to find that the interior was just as luxurious as the exterior. Making his way to the bar, he swung himself up onto a stool and waved down the bartender.

"I've heard that not everyone here likes the Imperials..." He whispered in a hushed tone.

 

[SoloWing]

Calden approached the patron and was mildly surprised to find the man cut straight to the point. He bought himself a moment by picking up a shot glass and giving it an unnecessary rubdown with a damp rag. Between the complexion and the scar, the guy almost looked dead. That didn't mean much. Appearances could be deceiving.

He placed the glass in front of the man, produced a bottle of whiskey blend and filled it. Generally, it paid off to tip the bounty hunter.

"Consider that one on the house." He said before dropping his voice to more conspiratorial tones. He continued: "A great many people dislike a great many things. What makes you take interest in them?"

 

[Kuran]

Sinya pointedly ignored the whiskey set before him. By most standards he wasn't old enough to be drinking anyway, but that was hardly his concern. It wouldn't do to poison himself.

Reaching into his robe, he fished around for a 50-credit coin. Sliding his hand over the bar in front of the tender, he left the coin on the bar as his hand returned to his side. "Because," He let a cold edge slip into his voice,"They wouldn't be the only ones who had an interest in ridding themselves of the Imperium."

Which wasn't really true. But it was a better idea to lie and pretend to want to join the rebels, that would have a higher chance of him gaining access to his targets than if he had simply strode into the cantina, activated his lightsaber and demanded to see the rebels.

That was the idea anyway.

 

[SoloWing]

So this wasn't a tough-guy punk with something to prove. Interesting. Calden quietly readjusted his assessment of the man. He left the credits on the counter next to the shot glass, a move for a move. If his info wasn't good enough, he didn't want this guy asking for a refund.

"I hear things now and then. Not enough to tell you who the brains of the outfit is, but enough to have a general idea of how they operate." He explained quietly. "I do know, though, that there's a group of people who talk a big game about undercutting the Imps. Call themselves the Ord Mantell Liberation Squad. They seem to think that this world should go back to the Savrips and that that'll only happen if the rest of us clear out of here. That includes the Imps.

"They're getting ready to do more than just talk about it. Word on the street is that they're shopping around for arms and the like. Looks like you chose to track 'em down at the right time."

 

[Kuran]

Sinya left the credit chip where it was. He leaned in a bit closer to the bartender. This "Ord Mantell Liberation Squad" seemed like his target."Savrips only huh? Then I suppose a man like yourself wouldn't be too keen on seeing them succeed?" Though it meant dropping the pretence of being a rebel sympathiser himself, Sinya felt that this man would be willing to help him regardless.

"So where would I go around here if I was in the market for weapons...and the like?"

 

[SoloWing]

"Your best bet would be Virdo Sythril." Calden replied without missing a beat. "Most of your other smugglers know that its only a matter of time before the Imps come in and flatten the Liberation. When that happens, they won't want to be implicated in treason. That's too dicey, even for them.

"But Virdo's a special case. He's big enough to supply them with the blasters, small enough to pack up and leave easy, but greedy enough to go for the credits. He's the only one I can think of that would go for this. If you're lucky, you might still catch him."

A card came up and over the counter. Calden placed it before the man. An address was written across the printed surface: the location of Virdo Sythril.

 

[Kuran]

"Virdo Sythril," Sinya echoed with a thoughtful tone. "Thank you. You have been helpful."

Standing up, Sinya turned and walked back out the way he had come, stopping only to collect the card with the smuggler's location on it. After consulting a public data terminal across the street, he gathered his bearings and set off on foot.


-------------

As it turned out, Worlport had, despite it's appearance as a harmless idyllic seaside town, quite a few bad areas. It was one of these areas, charmingly referred to as "The Pit", that Sinya found himself in. There wasn't even an Imperial presence here, just the occasional quick patrol streaming down the main streets.

Sinya stood in front of a small warehouse. It had been a bit of a challenge to find this place, secluded in a back alley as it was. The entrance had a heavy padlock over it, and clearly wasn't coming off.

Well, Sinya considered, this was the listed address, and even if it wasn't, he could simply leave.

Slipping the mask from his pocket, he put it over his face and pulled his hood up. There were times for subtlety, and now was not one of them. A smuggler would not likely be swayed by a credit chip and a well framed request. No, it would require a less...diplomatic approach.

Un-clipping the lightsaber from his belt, Sinya depressed the thumb switch, bringing the searing red blade into life. With a carefully aimed downward slash he cut the padlock in half, and a simple forward kick opened the doors.

As he strode inside, he reached out with the Force, feeling for any life signs within the warehouse. "I'm looking for Virdo Sythril!" He called.

 

[SoloWing]

The warehouse was large but hardly spacious. Whereas in times past a transport freighter might have been able to park in the warehouse and load cargo, such a feet was impossible now. Secured crates and containers littered the walls and sides of the construct, leaving it much more cramped than it otherwise would have been.

Yet, there was a strange semblance of order in the crates. On each wall was a makeshift doorway, and the path leading to that door was clear of obstructions. Someone had the place set up so that they could evacuate in a hurry.

Just off-center of the warehouse stood another, neatly stacked, pile of containers. Each one was clearly labeled as bantha feed. But doubtless contained something much more sinister. Next to that pile of smuggled good, stood a loose conglomeration of beings busy in an exchange.

Their attention broken by the new arrival, two aging security droids, two humans, and a twilek looked up at the intruding Sith. Almost in unison, everything went to pot. The security droids swiveled around, assessed the situation in an instant, and opened fire upon the Sith.

One of the humans, a lanky woman with more tattoos than good sense, cried out in alarm. The twilek male, looking equally gruff and unpleasant, grabbed her arm and began tugging her towards a side door.

The other human, a slightly overweight man in cheap clothing, was a bit more pointed. Orders of: "Hold him off! Stop him!" left the man's lips. He spun around in an instant, pointed himself towards the back door, and took off with speed that surpassed his size.

 

[Kuran]

Sinya was not surprised to receive a hostile welcome. Nor was it surprising that the only people foolish enough to open fire were the droids. Even at Sinya's skill level, which was to say, relative novice, it took only moderate concentration to deflect the blaster bolts that the ageing models spewed at him. He wasn't skilled enough to send the bolts directly back at his attackers though, with the result being a spray of red bolts flying around the warehouse.

He retained enough concentration however to thrust out with one palm towards the side door that the Twi'lek and human male were sprinting for, slamming it shut.

Starting at a slight crouch, Sinya leaped forward, sprinting in the direction of the droids, and the large human beyond.

 

[SoloWing]

The two droids paused briefly in their assault, perplexed at their blasters' lack of effectiveness. After verbalizing their self-diagnostics and finding nothing wrong, they quickly resumed firing. Bolts of superheated energy sped through the air only to prove completely ineffective against their target.

Meanwhile, the human male bounced off of the newly shut door and, in almost comical fashion, bounced off of the shutter and back into the twilek. The two spilled over each other in a tangle of limbs and crashed heavily to the floor. Several precious seconds were spent untangling themselves and getting back to their feet.

The fat man, however, had paused by the back door. His thick hands pawed at a case, unfastening the latches, and throwing it open. He dipped his hand into the container and produced two small round orbs: an adhesive grenade and a plasma grenade. Not the least bit concerned about the two droids, he hurled the adhesive grenade through the air towards his Sith attacker. A moment later, the plasma charge sailed through the air as well.

 

[Kuran]

A pair of quick diagional slashes aimed at the droids as he passed would hopefully be enough to take them out of the equation. That was Sinya's hope anyway.

Passing right between the droids, he continued on towards the heavyset man. This might not be his target, but he was the only one of the three who was standing, and so he posed the most immediate threat.

It was quite surprising to have a pair of what looked like grenades thrown at him. He reacted more on instinct than anything else. Stepping to the left, he waved a hand towards the flying grenades, his reflexes making everything appear to happen in slow motion.

The pair of grenades changed their course with a nudge from the force, heading for the twi'lek and human who were in a clump on the floor. Continuing on, Sinya approached the heavier man, raising his lightsaber threatningly. "I'm just here for information!"

 

[SoloWing]

The sparking remains of the battle droids on the flour, coupled with the twin shrieks of human and twilek as the grenades detonated against them, formed a powerful backdrop for Sinya's statement. The heavyset man yanked his hands out of the war chest as fast as possible and then immediately threw his open palm up in surrender.

"You want information?" The man's breath heaved through terror. "I've got information. Whattaya want to know? I'll talk! Just don't hurt me!"

His eyes were darting rapidly around the room, searching for some form of hope. It became readily obvious that there was none to be found. He deflated quickly.

 

[Kuran]

This looked like a man who wouldn't hesitate to attempt an escape, Sinya thought. And there wasn't much of a way to know what was in the box that this overstuffed fool was carrying. So Sinya decided that perhaps subtlety wasn't the way to go.

Stretching his arm straight out, the tip of the glowing red blade appeared just under the man's chin. The heat of it alone must have made him sweat, but Sinya kept it there. "You didn't really have to do that you know," He remarked casually. "I just wanted to talk. I'm looking for the Ord Mnatell Liberation Squad, and i'm told that you supply them with weapons. I want their location, numbers, equipment, and anything else that might make me not want to kill you."

 

[SoloWing]

"The Ord Mantell Liberation Squad?" The man repeated. His gaze was focused on the glowing red blade, not the man behind it. Each motion of his jaw brought the searing blade uncomfortably close.

He started talking quickly. Almost too quickly to be legible. "Sure, they-- they asked me for weapons. Showed some credits. I set up a meeting to talk shop tonight, but that was just to shut them down-- honest! No way I'd cross the imps. I'm loyal! I'm just a contact they had. I-- I don't know anything beyond that!"

The man, Virdo Sythril, swallowed. He was sweating bullets, but whether that was from the lightsaber beneath his chin or the fact that he was staring down a Sith was uncertain. Either way, he was scared spitless and spilling his guts.

 

[Kuran]

Sinya gave Virdo a look that showed just how much he believed the sweating man's story.

"I'm sure." Despite his personal attitude, he had to admit that at times, the stereotypical Sith attitude was quite effective. "You know what I hate almost as much as people trying to kill me?" He jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating the two smoking piles that had been until recently a pair of droids. "People lying to me. I don't care whether you sell to them or not. Now, where was the meeting going to take place?"

 

[SoloWing]

The color drained from Virdo's face, leaving it washed in the red tint of the lightsaber blade. Amazingly, he began sweating even more profusely.

"I'm not lying!" The voice came out in a wild wail. "They were supposed to meet me here-- tonight-- at dusk. This is where I keep my goods. Some of the stuff they were asking about just happened to be here, so why should I hold the meeting anywhere else?

"Look, I'll clear out. I'll do anything you want. Just-- just leave me out of the rest of this. I'm begging you!"

 

[Kuran]

Sinya flashed a tight smile. "Oh no. You're a loyal citizen of the Empire, right? Then you should be eager to help me. You're going to stay here, clean up all of this mess," He waved a hand around the warehouse,"And meet the Squad as planned. Do that without alerting them in any way to anything out of the ordinary having happened, and you get to go home alive. If you try to alert them, you will never see me coming. Do we understand each other?"

 

[SoloWing]

Virdo would have nodded had he been able to do so without taking off his jaw. Instead, he was forced to give a verbal agreement to that contract: "Yes, yes. Anything you say. I'll go ahead and meet with them. Let them come to you. Anything you want. I understand perfectly."