The corvette glided in seamlessly, making little noise, the only sound emitted being the reactor quietly powering the impulse engines. The ship slowly landed in a small clearing, and a hush fell on the nearby wildlife. Marc restlessly shifted his gun, looking about nervously. He and his squad had been waiting fifteen minutes past mark for this package which had very important plans, and it worried him even more that the corvette was beginning to hum louder. If the Empire had managed to steal these plans, the Rebel Alliance would sorely pay in blood and tears. The Captain grunted and hawked, a blob of red spit coming out and landing. Marc shifted again as the whir of the doors opening and the whoosh of the smoke screen began to permeate in the air.
The door opened, and to his relief, out stepped Captain Wilfore. Wilfore had evidently taken a good hit, based on the blast mark on his shoulder. But it was just another leaf on a tree of scars for this man. A veteran of forty espionage missions and a hero for the Rebels - perhaps even among the likes of Captain captain looked distastefully at the Rebels who had raised their guns, but only for a moment. Then he smirked. "Well, lads, we've had an interesting journey, I assure you. Perhaps I could tell you lot about it over a nice drink? I find that I am quite parched." The three other Rebels exited the ship, the height - and appearance - differences quite evident. One was handsome, but scowling. Another was about three feet tall with a pale pink mug and beady eyes - Marc couldn't guess that thing's species.
To be true, Marc was, well, green. He had joined the Rebels a month ago when the Empire had forced his father's business to close, and he barely managed to pay for a ride to the nearest populous planet with the credits he had scraped together. He had been at rock bottom, begging for credits, when a man beckoned him to a dark alley. Blindly, he had followed, and had been taken to a small ship where a captain was asking questions. He answered as best he could and was asked his opinion on the Empire. His silence had betrayed him, but he had been allowed into the Rebellion - more men were needed every day with the Empire's growing insolence.
Marc was snapped out of his thoughts when Captain Wilfore walked up to his Captain and began to speak to him quietly, passing a tape to Captain Mullendore. Then he heard the rustle in the woods, just a moment before blaster fire whizzed through the air. Ducking his head down and flicking off safety to his blaster, Marc said the prayer many a rebel had taken up - May the force be with me. Then he popped his head up and opened fire. He got a few good hits out of his rapid fire, taking down one stormtrooper. Then he felt a white knife drive into his chest, and he tried to breath, but he couldn't, he couldn't. He gasped for one last breath and fell cold to the smooth ground.
Jered sat with his squadmates, waiting for the signal. Then, when they spotted the enemy squadron and saw no others in the area, they rushed forward, whizzing away with stun batons, knocking out the stormtroopers. The squadmates of his searched the bodies, Mairen finding a good fit for a suit. They had average luck with the rest of the suits, the black material under stretching to fit the men inside them. This operation was… risky, to be true. Orisar Prime was an important supply base for the western Middle Rim, with enough munitions and weapons to arm a good amount of men. The problem was, this was risky - blowing the reactors and trying to capture the supplies would take much willpower and strength. He hoped to any deity that would listen - hell, even the Force - that this mission would succeed.
They moved in, getting through the gate check barely, a misunderstanding with access codes nearly getting them killed - though Ilvar had saved it. They entered and made their merry way to the reactors. Slowly taking the explosives from the small pack on his side, he placed them on the reactors. Then they walked away, and made their way to the supply area. Jesan pulled the detonator and let it blow, destroying the reactor. They moved in to secure the supplies, only to be met with five guards and - oh, shit.
The whoosh of the lightsaber was one of the last things he heard and saw before the man flung himself at them, slicing and dicing his squadmates. Hiding behind a crate, he peeked up and fired at the man. He hit the guy in the shoulder and internally cheered, but he was then met with a lightsaber smashing through the crate. Scrambling away, he tried to sprint away only to feel the warm embrace of death stab through his stomach, before he fell over. He tried to hold the wound, but it was too late.
