We'll All Miss Them

[Lamper]

WROONA

CAPITAL SPACEPORT - 13:30​

Another busy day on the bustling planet of Wroona, still flourishing despite its close proximity to warring territory. People of all kinds convene on this mecca. Ships coming and going. Commerce. Culture. It had it all. The forecast was to be clear skies with a slight chance of late showers. Just another day, another dollar. Then, an odd report surfaced. And, of all times, rain.

"Bro, seriously. Slow down. I'm tellin' you, it's never as bad as they say it is. They're sensationalizing. It's what they do. It's probably some rich stiff's kid that was snatched when he let go of his leash. We were gonna get sugar highs at the Artisan... What about my parfait?"

Cappi reluctantly jogged behind Cotan down a high-rise walkway with transparent floors, a view of the crowds below. Frayed gray sneakers striding. Stringy khaki cargos crossing. A special elastic black band at his waist hid his lightsaber hilt horizontally at the small of his back under his dirtied black sweatshirt, shredded gray tank underneath. He pulled up his sleeves as they passed a holo panel. A beautifully put together news anchor sat at her desk. The caption below, REBELS SHOW TRUE COLORS?

 

[Elijah Brockway]

Cotan pulled up the hood of the traveller's cloak he wore. It was a of a common Naboo design, of the sort he'd already seen three people wearing other than him...so he didn't have to worry about it making him look Jedi. All he had to worry about was the rain that was now falling, and the problem that had arisen that he was now on his way to help take care of.

Thankfully he had brought the cloak along. Sure, it said it wouldn't rain...now look at it.

"Jedi are supposed to be the guardians of peace and justice throughout the galaxy, remember?" Cotan said wryly, as water dripped from the front of his hood down just in front of his nose. "We should at least go check it out. The rebels are our allies, after all." He gestured to the news holo that he and Cappi had just passed. "If some small group of them is behind whatever is happening, or if there's an attempt to frame them for some crime, we would at least be doing good to gather information about it, wouldn't we?" His lightsaber, hidden deep within his cloak as it was, bounced against the back of his thigh, somewhat annoyingly.

I almost forgot how annoying it could be to have one of these.

He continued jogging on down the walkway, on his way to the spaceport. Whatever the level of disturbance happening, there was a disturbance, and Cotan couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just what he had seen on a news holo earlier, when he was getting something to drink with Cappi. Thankfully Wroona was still outside of Imperial control, and the local authorities weren't entirely anti-Jedi. Cotan could probably guarantee safety for himself and Cappi should they try to aid the police force with what was happening, at the very least.

He just hoped that it wouldn't end up with some sort of battle.

 

[Aleksandr]

The stormtrooper disguised as a Rebel soldier looked around the spaceport's central terminal. People were huddled on the ground by their seats and gave off an occasional scream of terror as the blasterfire intensified. Their plainclothes troopers had mopped up the spaceport security personnel, and were now taking over. Their leader, a Sith, had sent a message to the local authorities, telling them that they will start killing their hostages if the planet did not join the Rebellion.

Kardan Yaramenko understood that they were just trying to make the Rebels look like terrorists, and basically force Wroona into Imperial hands, but he nonetheless found this tactic a bit unsavory. Not for moral reasons, but because he preferred facing the enemy head on rather than pull a dirty trick like this. Anyway, he took out his comlink and told their Sith leader, "The central terminal appears to be secure."

 

[Logan]

Trickery and deception were things that came very natural to Vecna. He found an intense level of satisfaction in causing as much mayhem as possible without anyone even being aware of his existence. Most of the time he utilized those tactics to quickly and quietly rend a bounty limb from limb, or corral and slay some random beast on whatever backwater world called the Hunter's name. But ever since joining the Sith, Vecna had been granted the opportunity to flex his intellect in more structured, more militaristic situations. Needless to say, he flourished - and found he had a penchant for deception on a much grander scale than simple hunting and killing. The events transpiring here on Wroona was just another example of the lengths Vecna would go to keep his presence hidden, but in this case it was more out of necessity than any real personal preference.

The entire premise revolved around making the Rebel Alliance look like exactly what they were, and that was Zionist, treasonous mutineers. Rebel scum, as was the popular phrase. They were not heroes, or saviors, or whatever other glittering name they liked to call themselves. Their movement was a threat, their holdings detrimental and their message dangerous. When he thought about it the whole thing seemed kind of ironic, though. Being a member of the Coterie Vecna was all of those things as well, but the success in his regime would grace the galaxy with an Imperium still in power, just minus one bat-shit insane dictator running them helm. Of course, there was no saying whether or not Darth Umbra would succumb to the same level of murderish insanity to keep her throne claimed once she sat on it, but only time would tell. If history were any sort of guide Vecna knew that she would, "absolute power corrupts absolutely," as the phase so commonly went. In the end, it didn't really matter he supposed. There would always be those in power and those that lived in fear, that was just the way sentient beings worked. It was an inevitability the same way death was an inevitability. The key to a successful life was placing yourself on the side of the feared and not the fearful. You'll find success comes much easier that way, at least as far as Vecna's experience was concerned.

"Make sure you keep it that way," Vecna said idly, responding to his Imperial personnel in the hanger. "Local authorities are en route to your location as we speak, but I doubt they'll be too keen on a direct engagement considering how many hostages we have. We need to make them respect the situation regardless, private. So I need you to do something and you cannot question me." His tone turning heavy and serious, Vecna crouched low near an air conditioning unit on the roof he currently found himself on. Up until now, he'd been wandering from roof top to roof top near the hanger Private Yaramenko currently held captive. His direct presence wasn't required and he felt his purpose greater served keeping an eye on things from above. Eying the hanger intently, Vecna began to speak again. "You're going to broadcast a video to the holonet. Pick a hostage, let one volunteer, it doesn't matter. You're going to kill them, private. You're going to execute them on live television and tell them that is what will happen to every man, women and child in that space port unless your demands are met, or if you sense any police presence trying to infiltrate your location. Do you copy?"

Vecna surmised that, despite whatever reservations about killing a helpless citizen in cold blood he might have, Kardan would follow the order he'd just received. In the unlikely event that he did not, Vecna would simply do the job himself. Although to pay for the inconvenience of defiling his own blade with the blood of some random nobody, Vecna would probably kill private Yaramenko too.

Hopefully it wouldn't have to come to that.

 

[Lamper]

"What if it..."

Cappi bit his tongue as they passed by a perimeter officer, calming the crowd and scanning the outskirts. He'd have to watch what he said around them. They made him itchy. Made him feel like a criminal himself, the secret of the Jedi criminal in and of itself. Not to mention his distrust of authority. And that disliking glistened clearly in his light brown eyes as they locked with the officer's, both their heads following the other as they passed. He'd speak softer.

"What if it really is them? You consider that? The galaxy ain't all peaches. Who knows who's with the Rebels. They need money. A few go rouge. Get the dumb idea to take some hostages. Maybe they don't even intend on hurting anybody? Maybe they do. We don't know."

Moments later they came upon peoples' backs, shoulder-to-shoulder onlookers held at bay by the beginning of the police's line of operations. Some curious. Some looking for family still inside. Just arriving themselves, there were only a few of them holding their arms out to keep people from getting too close to the terminals inside. Someone's comm buzzed a loud voice calling for evacuations to be directed out the north exits, both upper and lower. Other voices sounded off their locations, affirmatives and copies. Three stood out, their heads together over a fold-out table with larger headsets connected to battery packs with multiple channel capabilities, a map of the facility under their eyes. The voice from before, echoing from various radios, came from one of the three ahead; this time ordering them not to get too close, to only escort out those who were already freely escaping outside of the situation within. Those who were not involved with the unknown, inside.

Cappi looked around, the news feed still live on several terminals in varying size; now under the shade of the entrances to the structure. Then he took Cotan's arm in hand and whispered.

"Look. This isn't some Jedi holo-series where the good guys in white face the bad guys in black who announce themselves with some dramatic entrance for all the world to see. This is life. Where good people occasionally do bad. And bad people occasionally do good. And no matter what you do, nothing changes."

His eyes were fierce. Strangely convicted in their stance of indifference and isolation. Better to not get involved than to see yourself become the fool. He didn't want to see Cotan feel what he's felt all his life. Just starting to become friends, and already their instincts were conflicting. And yet, some part of him wished for the answers that would give him the spark. To make him the Jedi everyone else was, who cared for others and never faltered, never failed to do what was right and sacrifice himself for anyone and anything; because it was just. Because it is covenant. Jedi. The Light. Guardians of peace and justice throughout all the galaxy.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

Cotan stopped upon coming to the group of people outside of the spaceport's central terminal, pursing his lips, both at the current situation and at what Cappi was saying as well. Sadly, what Cappi said - to an extent - held the ring of truth. Still, that was no reason for Cotan to dissuade himself from his current actions. Even if these were just rogue rebels, and they didn't have any intention of actually harming people...this was still far beyond what the rebels would normally do. Abnormal in the extreme, and more dangerous to the cause than it would be helpful. They didn't threaten people and worlds into joining them.

That made them every bit as bad as the Imperium could be.

"Cappi, we might not be able to change everything, but we can at least make a difference here," he said after a moment. "Sure, this might not be some holo film, but we should still follow our teachings, and we should still follow the Force. We have no excuse not to act, regardless of the true circumstances behind this, whether or not they are our allies." As he spoke, his voice rang with the same conviction that Cappi seemed to be lacking. "We need to figure out what is really going on, and we need to make it stop."

He still didn't believe that everything he knew, at the moment, of the situation was the truth of the situation. Rarely would that ever be so, that one would know the full truth of events upon just starting to witness them; his experiences with the deception of Geist Weiss had proved that to him better than any other teaching he might have received in the past. He shook his head, sighing.

"Cappi, this act of terrorism...this is based on fear, and control. This is the very sort of thing our Order is supposed to protect against, fight against, that we are supposed to stop." He closed his eyes, reaching out in the Force, trying to sense something that could help guide him through the events at hand. All he could sense, though, was fear. Anger. Pain. Death. Nothing specific for him to try and search out, however. "Can't you feel the corruption of the Dark Side in the air, here, fuelled by these events? Can't you feel the uncertainty behind what we do know, so far? These tactics seem more like those of the Sith and the Imperium, rather than those of any our order will work with." He opened his eyes again, looking at a news terminal, and then looking over to the police forces nearby.

"There's danger here, and not just the physical danger from whoever is behind what is happening, be they Rebel, Sith, or something else. We need to learn as much as we can about the situation before we try to do anything...Cappi, keep your focus on the news holo. I'm going to go talk to one of the security officers here. And don't forget - remain mindful of the Force. It will be your ally here, so long as you allow it to be."

That said, he turned again, making his way up to one of the officers barring out the rest of the civilians from entering the spaceport. "Care to tell me what all is happening here, officer?" he asked the man, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. "I doubt the news holos can really tell a lot, and I'd like to know the situation a bit better."

 

[Aleksandr]

"You're going to broadcast a video to the holonet. Pick a hostage, let one volunteer, it doesn't matter. You're going to kill them, private. You're going to execute them on live television and tell them that is what will happen to every man, women and child in that space port unless your demands are met, or if you sense any police presence trying to infiltrate your location. Do you copy?"

Yaramenko heard the order from the Sith over the comlink. The command was clear. The trooper did not hesitate. "It will be done, my lord," came his robotic reply.

He was not quite sure why he, as a hazardous environment stormtooper, or EVO trooper, would be selected for such a mission. Perhaps the Sith had looked through the records and sought out those who they thought would be willing to carry out an act of terror, based on psychological profiles of the men. Well, if that was the case, did a good job in their selection. From what Yaramenko has gathered, everyone on his squad is either an apathetic sociopath or an enthusiastic psychopath.

He would most likely fall into the former category. However, Yaramenko viewed himself to be above these . . . criminals. A group of men who probably want to do whatever they can to help the Sith, because they know that a galaxy without Sith dominating it would have no place for scum like them. It was not that Yaramenko did not feel anything (although he may appear to be that way outwardly), nor did he take some kind of sick pleasure out of the barbarous act. Unlike some others I could mention, he thought as he eyed several troopers beating a civilian who asked them a question.

So they had landed, walked in with blaster rifles, and shot up the security guards. And now they had another order. After this was done, the Rebellion would be exposed as the terrorist and anarchist cell that it really is. Or maybe not, he thought. Honestly, he did not really care about the Imperium's leadership or whether it survived. He only joined it to get off of Cademimu V, his hellhole of a homeworld. Now that that was accomplished, everyone in the Imperium could go to Chaos for all he cared.

But right now, he would perform his job. Yaramenko walked over to one of the other men and told him to find a civilian and bring that person to him. Doesn't really matter who, just someone. The man nodded and ran off.

He returned a few minutes later with a blue-skinned Twi'lek male. A businessman of some sort, judging by his rich-looking attire. The private smiled under the balaclava that covered his face. We'll even portray the rebels as not only terrorists but racists too, he thought. And then, Good thing the hideous scar on my face is covered up with this balaclava, if I'm going on the HoloNet.

The private took the Twi'lek near a communications terminal where he could broadcast to the entire planet. One of the troopers started filming. Yaramenko stood with the Twi'lek sitting on his knees in front of him, head looking down. "We feel that Wroona is not doing enough to help the Rebellion in its fight against the Empire. Today, we intend to change that."

He pulled out a blaster pistol and shot the Twi'lek through the head. Then, in an emotionless tone, he said, "This is what will happen to every one of the other 328 people who are in this terminal if the government of Wroona does not announce its allegiance to the Rebellion within the next three hours. We will not hesitate to kill them if we see any police begin making a move on the terminal. If one of them so much as looks in our direction in a way that we deem to be threatening, everyone will die. The government has the next three hours to comply."

 

[Logan]

From his perch on the roof of the space terminal Vecna had a clear look at a holovid feed a little bit down the way. A truly massive Kushari sitting on his ass, letting his feet dangle off the edge would of a terminal roof would have probably been enough of a sight to make the average Wroonian look up in awe, but Vecna had himself completely masked in the force. So much so that anyone looking at him from below would see not much more than the most minute glimmer of light bending around him, or the even more likely sight of absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. His cybernetic eye zoomed in closely as the typical news programs discussing the situation flickered and changed over to another feed, this one obviously less professional and shot with some sort of in-HUD camera. A tight smile creased Vecna's lips then, him knowing full well what was about to flash in front of thousands and thousands of hapless onlookers.

Doing his best to sequester a delighted laugh as the Twi'lek's brains were scattered across the terminal floor, Vecna took to investigating the people huddled around the holovid nodes. The looks of sheer horror and disgust painted across their faces was expected yet fulfilling, he could even see a few tears being shed by those who's empathy extended even to strangers. It was clear that the message Kardan had given was received and understood, the small band of officers Vecna had his eyes on stopping in their tracks as they too were engrossed in the brutality of the video transmission.

"Well done, private Yaramenko. Should it matter to you, I'll pass along a good word to your superiors about your actions here today. Vecna said into his com. "You should still remain mindful of the fact that they probably won't listen, at least not entirely. While they may keep the majority of their police forces outside of the terminal for the time being, it is quite likely that a spec ops group will be sent inside in an attempt to infiltrate the terminal covertly. They have the advantage of knowing the entire layout of the place, but we still hold the ace in our hand. If they try to infiltrate and fail, I expect you to make due on your promise."

Making his way to one of the larger grates that opened up above the terminal, Vecna dropped down several dozen feet onto a maintenance catwalk that snaked along the sides of the building far above the walking areas below. It was impractical for anyone but a force user, or someone with a jetpack of some kind, to infiltrate the terminal in the way Vecna had. The drop off was straight down and far, but despite his weight the Kushari's landing was soft and silent as his feet hit the durasteel of the catwalk. Deciding to keep his presence discreet for now, Vecna continued to keep his focus on hiding himself in the force while scanning the terminal below. His Kushari eyes were sharp and trained, if there any shenanigans occurring down there it was likely he'd see it.

 

[Lamper]

Just as Cotan's head seemed to lift ever higher, Cappi's fell lower. He was right. Something felt off. What's more. Guilt captured the sound of Cotan's virtue as it rang within Cappi's hollow shell, emptied of its likeness. And he battled with its elusive nature, chasing after it with the aimless darting of his eyes; thoughts following its trail to the only conclusion he could find. He had to do this, had to find it. Like walking, learning his first step, he had to teach himself what it felt like to be the right; be the just. It was there, deep inside him. He yearned for that same conviction. To care. But doubted he could ever attain such glory and purity of heart.

Left alone with his thoughts, he sank inwards for a moment; back to that place where nothing was good enough and everything paled in comparison to the Jedi ideal he sustained in his distant dreams. His eyes drew towards something he heard. And he looked up to the nearby screen.

Dread. It crept up his chest and gripped his throat. Eyes strangled open, soporifically locked in a stare. Heart began to pound. He saw it. On the screen he was told to watch. A person. No color nor gender. Gun to their head. Head, down just like Cappi's had been. He felt a strange connection to the Twi'lek in that moment. He was drawn in. Took a step closer, between two others. Melded with the crowd as they became one mind in empathy. The Rebel, no doubt in his clothing at least, spoke to the masses; enthralled by the suspension of his impending malevolence. The words all but skimmed across the fringes of his mind, stones skipping the surface of water; Cappi suspended below in disbelief. His heart JUMPED with the shot. People gasped. The dark side rippled a wave through his innocent skin. Blinking thoughts fired rapidly through his head, taking in the rest of the broadcast like trying to swallow a full glass of freezing water. The transmission terminated, flickering back to regular news programing; the news anchors mouths hanging open, speechless. And Cappi gulped down a breath of shock.

His head inched left. Someone else's face there instead of the line of sight he'd expected leading to a view of Cotan. Just a side view of someone else's shock. He looked back front. Alone. And the wheels turned loose, unhinged. He looked right. A cop stood in a daze too, just nearby. Ear piece. Battery pack. Go. Go. Go.

Without reasoning logic, considering teamwork, Cappi fed through the crowd towards the man; disappearing. His eyes glued open. 328 people, was all he heard over and over. Law enforcement couldn't do this. It was what he had to do, the Jedi. Care Cappi. Care. He swiped the battery pack and yanked the earpiece free before delving deep back into the crowd for good, the cop calling out in protest but becoming stuck behind too many bodies.

A minute later he was seen rushing inside the entrance to a much larger and complex facility, a blur to the naked eye. Somewhere in there was situation he could grasp. He could do this. He just had to find them. Secretly. Just like Cotan said. We have no excuse not to act.

Once inside, cheap comms strapped on tight, Cappi hurdled over the railing, palm smacking the gold-tanned chrome and launching him over the edge; sailing down to the first floor with a cat-like stoop into the ground onto all fours. He arose into a quick hustle for the clothing store to his left, where he ducked in to take a moment and peek a surveilling sweep of the path ahead. There, his hand crept back and withdrew the cylinder from the strap into a firm right-handed grip. He gulped again.

"Game time," he muttered to himself grimly.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

The officer started to give Cotan all the information he was allowed to give - which was still better than the news holos, at least, because it gave Cotan an idea of how many assailants there were, how many hostages, and the primary location where they might be - before his mouth clamped down, hard, his eyes looking to a screen. Cotan turned, feeling his stomach drop at what he saw.

He turned just in time to hear the last of the 'rebel's' first statement, before watching the Twi'lek slump to the ground, a portion of his head missing due to the blaster bolt. He cursed, turning back around, just in time to see Cappi running off, security commlink in hand, and cursed again. Wherever Cappi was going, at least he wasn't sticking around the main entrance; Cotan just hoped there wouldn't be anybody watching him specifically, and that the crowd had covered him well enough that he wasn't noticed leaving the area. "Thank you, officer," he said, before moving to leave the area, praying that Cappi knew how to hide himself in the Force, much as Cotan had been doing since he'd seen the first news available, burying his strength, the marker of his presense, so low as to be pratically unnoticeable amongst the general populace. Now he'd have to do something else as well.

He joined the throng of people that were on their way out of the area, as opposed to the throng on their way in; once out of view of the spaceport terminal - something that didn't take long - he ducked to the side, drawing upon the Force; in moments his form shimmered out of view, rendering him almost perfectly invisible as he cloaked himself in the Force. Then he started on his way back, quickly taking the commlink of an officer who was directing the flow of traffic, batter pack, ear piece, and all, before quickly moving away from the annoyed and confused man who he had taken it from, unable to be seen.

Once far enough away he stopped again, putting on the commlink, and listening carefully to what information was coming through. Cappi hadn't been detected by the security forces yet, thank the Force - Stay hidden and focus on getting those innocent people out of there, not on fighting whoever is in there, - he prayed, wishing he was skilled enough with telepathy to contact Cappi and say that. As it was, he didn't want to reveal himself over the commlink. No, he'd have to do like Cappi, and find a separate way in.

Thankfully, the spaceport was a large set of interconnected buildings. The central terminal was the main one under siege, where all the hostages were, but all the other terminals had been cleared out. Thankfully, they had a rather minimal guard attached, and Cotan would be able to slip past them. He circled around the buildings, keeping away from the croud as much as possible, coming to the easternmost secondary terminal, away from the crowds, whoever might be watching them, and the majority of the security force. He hadn't come around to the main entrance of the terminal, though; instead he was at its northern side, a vast with large windows, made to give a good view of the city nearby, for anybody arriving at its related hangar and getting ready to enter the area, or get one last look at the city before they left.

He pulled out his lightsaber, activating the weapon and cutting out a portion of the window, after having looked in to make sure there was nobody nearby who would see him. He didn't want to be noticed now. Once done, he vaulted in through the opening he had made, his eyes warily watching the space around him. So far so good. He looked over to a small electronic screen, on which a map of the large spaceport was placed. It had taken him a good few minutes just getting around to somewhere he could enter discretely; it would take a few more to make his way to the central terminal as well, having to pass through various walkways, lounge areas, and the like. And he didn't even have a small trolley or cart to hop on to speed up his trip, either. No matter; he'd just have to jog through, to get back to the central terminal. And so he started jogging.

- - - - - - - -​

Back at the central terminal, possibly in sight of Vecna if he knew where to look, a small team of six men, outfitted with dark blue and black body armour, blaster rifles, flash grenades and other tools of their trade, were at one of the many staff entrances to the facility. Maintenance, cleaning staff, workers, and various others all had small entrances to the spaceport's central terminal they could use as they worked, both at ground level and higher up, so that they didn't get caught in or disrupt the large flow of traffic going in and out all the time. These men would be entering a small service hallway, near one of the central terminal's attached food courts, from which they would begin their infiltration of the hostage situation. The squad leader spoke into his own commlink, something that would be picked up by the officers near the area as they were funneling civilians away from the central terminal, as well as Cotan and Cappie. "Katarn squad entering hostile zone, repeat, Katarn squad entering hostile zone. Operation Bayonet is engaged." As he spoke, the member of the squad in the lead unlocked and opened the door, opening it and letting his teammates file in, before he did the same.

Things were about to get interesting for everybody involved.

 

[Aleksandr]

Private Yaramenko had commandeered a small office in the central terminal to serve as his "field headquarters." His men had gotten the hostages assembled on the floor of the main waiting room, they were all sitting or crouching on the ground with a dozen or so guards moving about and carefully monitoring the group. Now, Yaramenko would sit here and wait for the government's response. As his Sith superior had predicted, they did not receive any communications from the local government. So, they've decided to try this the hard way? Yaramenko thought. It surprised him that the government would be willing to throw away the hostages' lives like that.

His men had locked down the main waiting room on the southern half of the central terminal. All corridors in the southern part of the building were being patrolled, along with some parts of the east and west areas. The camera system was in Yaramenko's office, being used to monitor much of the spaceport terminal. He also was considering sending some snipers up onto the roof to get a better view of the situation on the outside. They were most likely going to send in a team of special forces to clear out the area, a fact that was basically a foregone conclusion, so the Imperial had made the preparations—the guards were told to report any disturbance, and the ones that were with the hostages were prepared to open fire at them at any moment.

Then he got an idea. Yaramenko took out his comlink and spoke with the Sith man who was their overall commander. "Sir, it appears that you were right about the government ignoring us. Do you want us to threaten them again? Or do you have any other orders for us? Right now we're monitoring the central terminal in preparation for any break in."

 

[Lamper]

"What do you mean we're not going to negotiate!?!"
"I mean exactly that, lieutenant. We are not bowing to these lunatics."
"At least get them on the line! Get them talking! Stall them!"
"Lieutenant, stand down! Get with the program or get off my channel!"
"...Katarn Squad! Disengage! I say again! Disengage! Operation Bayonet is no longer a g-"
"Get him the hell off my block! Katarn Squad, disregard that last! Disregard! You ARE a go-go-go! Somebody find the lieutenant and relieve him of his god-d*mned duties!"

Katarn squad stumbled to a standstill in the narrow entryway, them and any other soul with an earpiece listening to this dissension and chaos; confusion clouding the situation further. But the moment was quickly corrected back on course. The decision had been made. And Cappi couldn't make two cents of it.

"Confirmed. Operation Bayonet is engaged," Katarn alpha quietly repeated and waved his men onward in formation. The scouter reached the end of the hallway and peeked out. The spotter came behind and touched his shoulder. The scouter nodded. And the spotter waved the okay, then double tapped the scouter's shoulder. The others passed by in a low shuffle for positioning into the open, staying tight along the wall single file.

Cappi calked his head curiously as he saw them from his vantage point across the main floor, behind them. He immediately concluded they were the Katarn Squad he'd just heard about, but was stuck trying to figure out what they were there to accomplish. They couldn't just charge in, blasting their way to victory. Something was up. And Cappi still wasn't taking this seriously. He coached himself internally, focusing on proving himself wrong; on proving that he could force himself to walk the walk enough that he'd fit into the shoes and become the right kind of Jedi, the idolized and righteous Jedi.

So Cappi peeked back out at Katarn Squad, looked up at several security cameras in their black bowls on the ceiling, and got the bright idea to follow in their shadow. Maybe he could help them. And if they became the object of attention, he'd be free to move undetected. Or so he thought.

Katarn Squad, while stealthily and efficiently covering a short distance speedily, all but ignored the fact that they were at points blatantly on camera. At times, one or two of them would even look up at the camera, knowing exactly where it was. Lenses were everywhere. They couldn't be entirely avoided. And yet, their pattern of movement was intensional as it did limit their time in the spotlight. And it brought them to a main intersection. Left, and they'd eventually come into conflict and find the hostages. Right, and they'd be heading in the opposite direction. They went right. Briskly, the team crossed behind an island of fake greenery. And they fed into another maintenance hallway, one they couldn't reach from the outside. It was here that they finally showed concern for the camera eyeing them down. They assembled next to a large console and circuit box. One turned around and began taking off his backpack, as another attended to its contents. And finally, Katarn Alpha raised aim and shot out the camera.

"Checkpoint one, reached."
"Copy. Record time, Katarn Squad. Now let's shut down those lights."
"Aye, sir. Commencing takeover."

Cappi heard that last from the center of the aforementioned intersection, hiding behind an advertisement panel. Not being able to see what 'checkpoint one' was, he could only assume a multitude of options. But he hadn't seen any hostages so far. It was a big place. And it wasn't like the nearby directory listed 'terrorists' in one of the store locators icons. So, on his own now, he had to start thinking. But then he heard footsteps in the other direction and ducked. Glued tightly against the stand-alone panel, Cappi looked at the reflection in the glass to his right and saw a rebel-dressed guard walking towards the intersection. He must have heard something, Cappi thought. The guard was staring right at the panel that Cappi was hiding behind. Crap. Crap. Crap. Cappi's eyes darted for an answer. Then he came up with something. He opened his hand slowly towards the glass reflecting the guard's image, and began to flex the material until it constricted with an audible sound. Warped and then released, the plexiglass simulated movement. And the guard noticed. His head turned. Then he began creeping slowly towards it. He raised his weapon and pressed through a cautious heel to toe stalking of the area until passing Cappi. The guard looked inside the dark store, peered left then right. Nothing. Heard a squeak. Whipped around, pointing his weapon at the stand-alone sign. And saw nothing. He frowned, eyes shifting back and forth suspiciously. No one to be seen.

Temporarily disguised in the Force, Cappi snuck away in the direction the guard had come from. He was getting closer. This was getting tense.

 

[Aleksandr]

"You might want to see this."

Yaramenko walked over to the holocamera console in the security office. A couple of slicers that were with them were looking over the systems. As he walked up to them, they began playing a recording on the screen, which then went black. He understood what they were concerned about now. Infiltrators were here. Not surprising, just as the Sith had predicted. Should they kill the hostages now, as they promised they would in any event of an attack?

The disguised stormtrooper took out his comlink. "Are you there?"

"Yes," his second-in-command replied. He was in the room with the hostages. "I copy. Orders?"

"We have guests." Yaramenko told him. "You know what that means. Begin preparations."

With that, Yaramenko left the room.

 

[Lamper]

KATARN ALPHA AND TEAM:
"How much longer?"
"It looks like they've set up some failsafes, sir. It's just like the lieutenant said."
"Damn."
"Sir, HQ wants to know why we went dark. What should I tell them?"
"Nothing. Just wait. If we can't even turn the lights off without setting off a trap because of a few damned slicers, then ... gods help us."
"Sir! It's the lieutenant. He's still on the comms. Listen."

"...your sentencing those hostages to death! Katarn Squad! Do not execute! Get outa there! There's another way! All of those people's lives are in your hands! Make the right choice! Katarn Squad! Make the right ... Ack!"

SCREECH!

Cappi painfully ripped out the earpiece, shaking the feedback out of his eardrum. The sound echoing out from the bookstore he dove into, Cappi nervously pulled at the chords until the battery back lifted from his belt and plopped onto the floor. A knee-jerk reaction to the deafening sound, he just had to rid himself of the device. He couldn't hear a thing, couldn't think with this incessant ringing drilling through his skull. Teeth clenched, he rocked back and forth on the floor behind a cutout of an author; a looping vid portrayed on the life-sized model. Until, finally, the burning sensation abated and that singing tone weakened to nothing. Yet he could not hear the footsteps that were coming closer. The lieutenant's last words then returned to him. A distorted misinterpretation, however. That's right, he reassured himself. Some soldiers can't do this. Only he can. He's much less conspicuous. This is my responsibility as a Jedi, he reassured himself. To do things that others can't. To take upon one's self the responsibility of the lives of others. I am a Jedi, and I can save these people!

"Where'd it come from?"
"In here. I'm sure of it."

Their muffled voices, through a peripheral haze, instigated a shiver up Cappi's spine; a ripple of the Force alerting him to their presence almost too late to have helped. Seeing a rebel boot step into the store next to him, Cappi's body tensed. And the rebel-dressed gunman looked down with a blank questioning look in his visor at Cappi, who looked right back up at him pleadingly.

"What is it?"

Cappi immediately locked onto that voice behind the rebel and pulled with a yanking pump of his left arm. And before the foremost rebel could take aim, the one behind him flew onto his face and slid through the other's legs into the store. The two were tripped up by the pull of the Force and tumbled together into a kiosk display of boxed datapads where Cappi seized the moment and dug through the falling boxes to rip off their helmets and bash their skulls with the butt of his lightsaber hilt one after the other. One, the back of his head. And the other, the front. Panting, Cappi stood over them; feeling less and less in touch with reality. More and more, he became swept up in this sensation of falling; a sort of momentum he couldn't slow. He looked back over his shoulder, failing to deduce any significance from their faces and any markings, and encouraged himself onward.

Palm rubbing his ear, Cappi readied himself in the entrance. He took a deep breath, and then dashed with a quick burst of Force Speed; blurring his image from store-front to escalator cover. And he zigzagged from cover to cover this way to avoid being spotted until there was a concentration of guards ahead, blocking his path. And Cappi stayed behind a marble cube adorned with a potted fern, getting his first look at the situation in person. He cursed under his breath. The situation daunting. There was no way he could just run in there and save the day, especially without ending some lives; and in all likelihood, his included. Then he remembered the broadcast. He remembered that someone was leading this coup. Maybe, just maybe he could get this guy himself and find out just what was going on here.

BACK AT HQ:
"Why won't they respond?!?"
"Maybe something's happened to them?"
"Insubordination's what happened."
"Does anyone have eyes on the lieutenant?"
"Damn him."
"What the hell's going on?"
"Get me a line open. Patch me through to these Rebels."
"But, sir!"
"I said patch me through! Without Katarn Squad we've got nothing! I've got to clean up this mess."
"Y-yes sir."

RING-RING RING-RING

"... ... ... Hello...? Hello? This is commander Gerstatt. To whom am I speaking with?"

 

[Aleksandr]

Yaramenko was amused when one of his subordinates ran up to him and told him that the commander of the local security forces is trying to contact them through the spaceport communications system. Rather than go straight to the hostages, he decided to speak with the man.

"The Rebel leader," he said into the comlink. "What it is it?"

But as the disguised stormtrooper said that, another one of them came up and told him that they lost contact with a couple of guards. Yaramenko took out the comlink. "Some of your men made their presence known to us. I trust that you remember what I said would happen if that occurred."

 

[Lamper]

"Yes. We're dealing with that right now," he leaded. "An unfortunate break in command. Nothing more. They won't come any closer, I can assure you. Just don't do anything rash. We've hailed representative Amilia Islain. She's the best we could do on such short notice. She'll be able to negotiate once we get her on a secure line. We just need confirmation you won't hurt anyone before then."

The commander caught a glimpse of his fellow officer's questioning look, and revoked it with a grimace and a head shake. Mixing in half truths with lies, the commander was winging it; trying to stay ahead of events that were quickly rolling out of control. He had no idea that it was Cappi, not Katarn Squad, that had taken out the two guards. And while there had been a break in the chain of command, he assumed the role of peacekeeper and all but labeled the lieutenant and Katarn Squad as the dissenters. And on top of everything, they'd already assured representative Islain that everything was under control; doing everything they could to keep her out of the situation.

An officer raised a communicator quizzically in response to the commander's claim that they'd hailed Islain. And the commander circled his finger over and nodded, bidding the call be made. And the officer jumped to the order, searching to reconnect to her emergency line.

The third and final officer there quietly tried to reconnect with Katarn Squad, whom for some reason wasn't responding; resorting to a repetitive standby order to keep them from doing anything else so long as they could still hear them.

Inside their little hallway, Katarn Squad heard their new orders. And, for lack of a better option, they complied. They were already stuck between a rock and a hard place. But now their orders were coinciding with the lieutenant's warnings. And they trusted the lieutenant above all others.

Cappi, however, could no longer hear what was being said over the comm's after leaving his earpiece behind. Disappearing into the folds of the Force as best a Padawan could, Cappi snuck past the first few guards down a hallway outside of the room where the hostages were. Cappi flickered in and out of disguise as best he could. Sort of like holding his breath. It was all he could do at his current skill level to take his movements in strides of concealment with breathers spaced in-between. He hugged a corner. Heard some conversation moving away from him. Peeked around and saw two guards walking away from him. Then snuck in closer to try the first door on his left as quietly as possible. It was locked. Sith-spit! The guards stopped. Cappi's heart pounded. He considered going for the next door. But they turned around. And he escaped into distortion and back around the corner he'd come from. Then released his cloaking for a nervous breather. So that was their pattern, he deduced. The pair would likely come back towards him to the end of the hall and then return back down to the other end. And so he waited for the next opportunity to try the next door of five, ready to slip into shadow at a moment's notice; to hopefully discover a way to win.

 

[Aleksandr]

Yaramenko nodded to the two guards patrolling outside of the central room where the hostages were being held as he made his way there, with the comlink in hand. "I'm afraid it is too late. You have been given one chance to join our revolution and have failed. Why should I not keep my promise?"

He had the door unlocked by one of the other disguised stormtroopers and walked inside, noticing that the guard forgot to lock it. Not that it would make a difference now, since the commandos were apparently handled. The hostages were all gathered by several rows of seats that were present in this large room, which was a waiting area for those who had flights departing or arriving at this terminal. The room was the largest in the building and so it was the easiest choice just to keep the hostages in here. The stormtrooper private walked over to his second-in-command and the man told him that he is prepared to carry out the task in a low voice, to not induce panic in the hostages. About a dozen "Rebels" were positioned in different spots around the mass of hostages sitting on the floor by the seats, in position to fire at his command. The sides of the room had some small stores with various products, and a few waste containers here and there. A large corridor opposite of the door led further down towards separate gates.

Yaramenko stood by as he awaited the response on his comlink.

 

[Lamper]

Cappi's chin turned, expression darkening. He swore he'd heard a voice in passing just then. Too late!?! Was that what they just said?? He feared the worst. Heartbeat thumping. Faster. Harder. The blood was rushing to his ears. A flutter of nervous blinks lead to a forced moment of quieting his chaotic mind. He shut his eyes and stretched his senses down the hallway, pressed his temple to the wall as the Force fed his sight through the shadows to the form of two silhouettes standing in front of a closing door as the third passed through it. Now!

"Failed?" the Commander exclaimed, shooting up out of his seat, a clear change in tonal composure. The illusion of status roles inverting. "But we still have some time! You said three hours!?"

The Commander's raised volume captured everyone's attention around him, rapturing their worst fears in a moment's turn. A woman's ornamented face somberly inquired to the situation from one of the muted screens beneath a frozen officer's chest, to no avail. And hoards of onlookers still crowded the perimeter barricades around concerned guards who looked back over their shoulders to the central shatter-point under the shade of the main terminal's edge, provisional HQ.

"My men haven't made a move on you, just as you said. They've only just appraised the situation. There's no need lose confidence in us. We'll get you what you need, I promise you."

While mostly speaking truths, the Commander was losing equanimity; reaching for anything to slow the Rebel leader, this terrorist, down. From the start, the Commander had been arrogant and overconfident. He'd focused on tallying another notch on his easily perfect record. It was about winning for him, not saving lives. He hadn't even considered the possibility of failure. This would ruin him. But the rest of them had heard the lieutenant's pleas for caution. His disavowal of quick action was recorded testament to his innocence. For he would have otherwise been the prime candidate for a scapegoat. But now. No, he had to fix this. If only long enough to rid himself of blame.

Meanwhile, Cappi snuck closer and closer towards the two guards blocking the sunken doorway to the waiting area; flush against the raised wall until he felt close enough to make a move. Cappi's two fingers jabbed a transmitted nudge of the Force that shoved one of the guard's shoulders back into the wall behind. The other guard looked to his comrade with equal confusion, giving his back to Cappi and blocking the other's view. When suddenly Cappi exploded into action, rushing the two guards with a tackling leap before they could fully turn around; his palm catching one helmet and rattling the other's between the wall like a pair of eggs, crunching their skulls together as one to the wall with tremendous speed. Lights out.

The rebounding thumps of the dropped guards, only a somewhat violent sequence of sounds heard out of context, would not carry far beyond the closed door to the huge waiting area where many sounds canceled out anything suspicious. And enough time had lapsed that whoever had passed through the door earlier would have walked far enough away from hearing anything.

So, crouched low, Cappi thoughtlessly triggered the door to slide open and snuck through; the door closing behind him. He immediately slid behind a waste bin and was struck with awe at what he saw. It was all the seated hostages, in their vast sum. And spaced amongst them were their overbearing captors. Yet one voice stood out amongst the others, echoing confidently just as it had before through the hallway. That was the one! And Cappi snuck a peek to see who it was and where it was headed.

 

[Aleksandr]

"I stated quite clearly that if one of you so much as looks in our direction in a way we find threatening, they will be killed," Yaramenko said into the comlink. "Your men have been spotted attempting to enter the terminal. That is quite threatening, and whether they are acting on your orders or not is irrelevant."

As the stormtrooper private suddenly turned away from the comlink to look towards his second-in-command, he noticed a slight flicker of movement near one of the garbage cans not far from the door. That's strange. Maybe it's nothing? No, he was pretty sure he saw something move right there. It could be one of the commandos. Yes, that must be it. He thought he heard some kind of slight banging sound out in the corridor earlier, but assumed that it was nothing. But now he was sure that it was no coincidence.

Wait a minute, he though. This might actually play into our plans. But we cannot afford to alert them to his intent yet. He looked at his second-in-command and told him, "Prepare the HoloNet transmitter for a broadcast, I have a message to make."

As the man took out his comlink to contact the others, Yaramenko hoped whoever was hiding in the room with them would not find it suspicious enough to make his move now. He was sure that his dozen men in the room would be able to kill a single commando, but he had a special idea in mind that would work better -- for both appearances and practice -- in this situation. The men managing the HoloNet transmitter will connect it with the feed of the security holocams in the terminal so he can broadcast his message from here.

Yaramenko also waited to hear the enemy commander's response to his statement.

 

[Lamper]

Cappi desperately ducked back down behind the container, praying the man hadn't seen him. Cursing to himself, biting down on his lip so as not to let out even a peep, Cappi squeezed a fist wishing he could punch himself over and over for that near slip up. Fearing exposure, he could only sit there and wait. Agonizing in silence, nervously chafing palm-sweat into the steel cylinder in his right hand, he endured the seemingly endless term of measurement; gauging by heightened senses whether or not the man moved to investigate. And it seemed he did not.

Cappi's head dropped, miming a silent sigh of relief. He was safe. For now. His nerves were on the fritz. This was too intense. By the Force. He'd have to be more careful. But from what he'd just heard, Katarn Squad was still the subject of much tension. It seemed, if nothing else, they'd kept the spotlight off of him. But talks weren't going well. He was out of time, without a means or moment to act. Stuck, he could only stay glued in this squat until a more surgical action could be made.

"You're in control! You're in control! My men are inside the terminal, but not anywhere near you or those civilians. They are not a threat, I can assure you!"

Knowing that operation Bayonet was first and foremost a mission to cut the power, that not having been accomplished, commander Gerstatt assumed his team had not moved beyond checkpoint one. But having been told by the terrorist leader that two of his men were taken out, Gerstatt could only assume his men were responsible. So, all things considered, he was lying, again. Even though he was correct. Unbeknownst to him.

"We can get you what you need! Just wait!"