OOC: This thread takes place concurrently with Operation Corellian Run. Only PCs who are not occupied there and know the routes of Exegol can oppose. This is an intrigue thread.
The Bothan Spynet must be incredible to find the dirt that leads to a mission like this one. Aboard a G1-A starfighter running silent, Ranger Holliday and his companion had just double-checked all their gear for the task ahead. The fighter was rigged to self-destruct on command, vaporizing both navicomputer and the black box. No one in their right mind who knew about this would think Jazz didn't take his job seriously, general attitude aside. At least, assuming he lived. Best not to dwell on it.
They lay in wait along a secret little spacelane that lead to some kind of super secret Sith shipyard, the fighter's systems and engines set for a quiet approach on a transport they knew was coming in advance. Jazz may be a medic- and at this point had made great progress with his university classes and all that- but he was still a Ranger with experience from the syndicate war. And a man of Llanic. Sure he'd deny any criminal history or skill, but he had both criminal history and skill, which would probably come in handy. That, plus the collection of supporting droids stored in the ship.
"I ain't looking forward to this," he grumbled, making sure his Python was charged for the tenth time, then his BA-20C carbine. Only an insane person would be, frankly. At least they were getting hazard pay. Jasper moved the sling with slicing and other mission supplies next to himself and a duffel full of grenades and stared at the console. A couple more grenades were on a belt pouch, both concussive.
After a short while, the console started beeping. "There's our horse. Jamming." He flicked a switch, preventing outgoing Imperial distress signal frequencies- another sneaky little thing the Spynet had found out. Then the fighter moved surreptitiously through the void toward the transport in order to latch onto one of its docking rings undetected. "Let's be quick about this and get outta here."
@Altaris
The Bothan Spynet must be incredible to find the dirt that leads to a mission like this one. Aboard a G1-A starfighter running silent, Ranger Holliday and his companion had just double-checked all their gear for the task ahead. The fighter was rigged to self-destruct on command, vaporizing both navicomputer and the black box. No one in their right mind who knew about this would think Jazz didn't take his job seriously, general attitude aside. At least, assuming he lived. Best not to dwell on it.
They lay in wait along a secret little spacelane that lead to some kind of super secret Sith shipyard, the fighter's systems and engines set for a quiet approach on a transport they knew was coming in advance. Jazz may be a medic- and at this point had made great progress with his university classes and all that- but he was still a Ranger with experience from the syndicate war. And a man of Llanic. Sure he'd deny any criminal history or skill, but he had both criminal history and skill, which would probably come in handy. That, plus the collection of supporting droids stored in the ship.
"I ain't looking forward to this," he grumbled, making sure his Python was charged for the tenth time, then his BA-20C carbine. Only an insane person would be, frankly. At least they were getting hazard pay. Jasper moved the sling with slicing and other mission supplies next to himself and a duffel full of grenades and stared at the console. A couple more grenades were on a belt pouch, both concussive.
After a short while, the console started beeping. "There's our horse. Jamming." He flicked a switch, preventing outgoing Imperial distress signal frequencies- another sneaky little thing the Spynet had found out. Then the fighter moved surreptitiously through the void toward the transport in order to latch onto one of its docking rings undetected. "Let's be quick about this and get outta here."
@Altaris