Aboard the Firebird
"You're sure about this?" Arie asked for the - well she'd lost count of how many times she'd posed that question now. She and Myk were in the captain's quarters aboard the Firebird. Myk rested easily on the bed, his booted feet hanging over the edge of the bed, his back to the wall. Arie zipped up the front of her flak vest, checked herself in the mirror and turned to face the Rogue.
"By the stars! You're sexy," Myk whistled. "You could shoot me, and I'd thank you for the attention. And, yes, I'm sure."
Arie blushed, shook her head, and fixed Myk with a mock-glare, "Don't muddle the subject with flattery, nerfhearder-" She started.
Myk raised his hands in surrender, "Completely involuntary, Princess. If you could see your own backside in those blaze pants, you'd understand."
Arie looked over her shoulder at the full length mirror, and tried to suppress a self-satisfied grin. Damn, girl, she thought to herself before turning back to her husband. "You're forgiven," she said. "Now, why are you suddenly okay with sitting on the sidelines for an op.?"
Myk-Ron grinned. "Well, someone does need to stay with the 'Bird to keep an eye on Evelina," He said. "Also, I may be just a little too tempted to jack Maxell in the jaw if I see him. For this particular op., that may not be the best of things to do. And, you'll need someone you trust as your eyes on this. It's a fast insertion, requiring a lot of stealth, great timing, and precision. You'll do better with me somewhere I can see everything going on, and in a position to blast an escape route if needed."
"Okay," Arie shrugged as she checked the blasters at each hip, and the one under her arm. Her lightsaber clipped into a specially made quick-release on the right gun holster. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and dyed back to its natural auburn sheen. She wore a matte-black mil-spec flak vest over a dark blue synthskin shirt. Her legs were covered in matte-black blaze pants with cortosis and durasteel plates sewn into key positions. Her boots tied up to just below her knees. All her gear checked out, and she had to admit it felt incredibly good to be gearing up for a fight.
"You don't have to look so smug about it," Myk threw a pillow at his wife.
"Oh, shush," Arie tossed it back at the Rogue. "I'm going to check on the crew. Shouldn't you be running a systems check or something?"
"Yeah, yeah," Myk sighed as he stood and crossed the small compartment. "So many people on the 'Bird, it's an adventure just getting to the cockpit."
The cargo hold had been quickly retro-fitted as bunk and crew quarters to account for the extra hands on deck. Crash-web seating folded down from the walls near the cargo ramp. Bunks had been set up, and magnetically affixed to the plate decking along the curved outer wall. That left ample room in the center of the hold for some light sparring, meditation; whatever the crew would need.
Ryneas pulled up his boots and made sure they were securely fastened. He was covered head to foot in matte black combat gear recently recovered from just one of the many hidden compartments on this ancient light freighter. He didn't need to know the why, how, or where Master Dinn had acquired a dozen mil-spec combat suits that he was pretty sure pre-dated the Vong invasion. But, from the moment he stepped aboard the aged ship, he felt as though he'd been transported through time, and his curiosity was warring with his need to clear his mind.
He stood and crossed to the center of the hold, rolling his neck and shoulders, feeling the fit of the combat suit. It stretched in all the right places, had plates covering his vitals, and enough pockets to house anything a spec-ops soldier might need. Then there was the utility harness strapped for any occasion. It had attachment points for nearly anything ranging from holsters and ammo pouches to rappelling and parachute chord, and it was easy to reconfigure. His lightsaber clipped neatly into a quick-release strap running horizontally along his belt-line at his back; much like the old stormtrooper grenade canisters from the Empire's hey-day. He'd taken a sidearm from the impressive armory aboard the ship as well. Like everything else on the rugged freighter, the blaster was from a time long gone, but well-maintained and highly functional. It was an old DT-12 with a wooden inlay in the slightly over-sized grip to accommodate the tear-resistant and partially armored gloves that accompanied the combat suit. Ryneas checked the blaster again, making sure it was set to stun, and holstered the weapon in the shoulder strap under his left arm.
"You look like you just stepped out of a Rebellion-era history holo," Ethan said as he entered the hold, and plopped down on a crate near the wall. He wore his full beskargam minus his helmet which currently rested in the crash-web seat he'd chosen for himself near the loading ramp. He reached behind his back, and produced an equally old DXR6 Blaster Carbine. From a side pouch he produced his cleaning kit. With meticulous care, he began to field-strip and clean the weapon.
Ryneas nodded at the carbine. "Says the guy whose gun is older than he is."
Ethan shrugged. "How's that combat suit feel?"
"Great, actually," Ryneas said as he stretched out.
"Hard to improve upon perfection."
"Point."
Finished stretching, Ryneas took a loose boxer's stance, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his mind. He drew upon the wellspring of the Force as he slowly began to move through an unarmed kata. This being a bloodless coup, he wanted to make sure he was prepared for hand-to-hand combat. A stun-bolt would drop a guard pretty quickly, but a stun bolt was also noisy and bright. It was definitely not the stealthiest of take-downs.
As he continued through the kata, he fell deeper into the river of the Force. Eyes still closed he became intensely aware of all aboard the Firebird. He could feel Ethan's cool resolve with him in the cargo hold. He could feel Marin trying to conceal her excitement at being on a mission with the Masters Dinn and nearly the entire Rogues Crew as she made her own way to the cargo hold.
Having served at Rhen Var and then Msst alongside Master Myk-Ron, Ryneas was a bit more…subdued. He would admit later that he was interested to be running alongside Master Arie, though.
He could feel Master Callista's calm, and admired her ability to control her grief and rage so completely. But, then, they don't make just anyone a Master. In his mind's eye, he could "see" her in the guest quarters checking her own borrowed gear. She must have sensed his presence then, because it felt like she was looking right back at him.
Ryneas stumbled then, caught off-guard. Ethan chuckled a bit and continued to clean his carbine. Marin made a show of inspecting one of her throwing knives, pretending she hadn't just seen a Praxeum instructor fumble a kata they'd drilled a million times. Ryneas reset his feet, took a calming breath, and resumed his kata. As he fell back into the Force, he could almost feel Master Callista's amusement, but he steered his consciousness elsewhere.
In the Captain's quarters he felt the Force open up as though he'd been in a stream that suddenly dumped into a bottomless ocean. It was beautiful and terrifying. It felt as though the Force lived there, and Ryneas nearly became lost to its majesty and pull. It was expansive as space itself, and, at its heart, there played a star. At first, he though it must be one of the Masters Dinn, but the outlying sense was wrong. There was innocence there, complete innocence, and a playfulness that enveloped him. Belatedly, he came to realize it was Evelina he was sensing, and she was merely playing the cup and ball game he'd seen Master Arie and her playing occasionally. Except, this time, Evelina was playing on her own, and she had six cups, three balls, and twelve blocks all moving at once and independently. He tore himself away then, his kata winding down.
He hadn't sensed the Masters Dinn, but he seldom could unless they wanted to be known. Neither could he sense the mercenaries Nik-Yar Randar and Vincint Rane. They trailed the Firebird through hyperspace in their respective ships; Nik's insanely modified Lambda-class shuttle, The Phantom, and Vincint's equally modified Firespray, The Dragon.
Rogues, Ryneas thought. It was impressive, the way they seemed to melt into the very flow of the Force. But, the moral ambiguity and chaos…Well, to each their own, but Ryneas preferred a clearer line between right and wrong.
His kata finished, Ryneas opened his eyes. Ethan was just slinging his carbine back into place, and putting his cleaning supplies away. Marin's eyes were on the entrance to the cargo hold from the interior ring of the starship. Ryneas tracked her sight-line, the bowed slightly as Arie Dinn entered the hold. She was positively striking in dark blue and black. Her physical age and tremendous beauty often caught him off-guard. He was rather proud that he didn't feel his cheeks warm as she strode into the room. Beneath the youthful surface were decades upon decades of experience and wisdom. She and her husband were anomalies creating anomalies within the galaxy. What made the whole situation even stranger for him was how…nice they were; how normal they seemed. He was glad his family and theirs were so close.
Coming in behind Arie was Master Callista, who wore much the same as Arie except in deep purple and black as opposed to blue. She winked at Ryneas, and nodded to Ethan and Marin.
"Okay, Crew," Arie said. With a completely effortless motion of her hand, a large crate slid into the center of the room. On top of this she set a datapad and a small holoprojector. "We're two hours from insertion. Let's run down the plan once more."
Everyone huddled around the crate as Arie ran down the specifics of their mission. Ryneas had fought in wars, plural. He'd flown starfighters in dogfights. He'd fought saber to saber on the frigid cliffs of Rhen Var and in the foggy swamps of Msst. He'd been on rescue missions into hostile territory. He'd been on solo stealth missions to extract powerful targets. But, this…he'd never done anything like this before.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Myk had said, clasping Steffan's arm.
"As do I," The Jedi Grand Master had a hardness to his eyes that Myk hadn't seen before, and it didn't take an affinity with the Force to read what lay beneath the surface.
"Don't worry, Steffan," Myk had put on his best roguish grin. "The bastards' feet won't even touch the soil."
"Yes, they will," Steffan's gaze shifted to the sky. "But, they'll not leave it once they do."
That was nearly a day ago, as Myk had stood outside the Firebird waiting for everyone to get on board. Yet, the words still rang hard in his head as he stared out the forward viewport and into the mottled sky of hyperspace. The Rogue checked the shipboard chrono. One hour until arrival and insertion. Arie would be in the back, getting strapped in with the rest of the Groud Crew. Evelina, giddy as ever, sat in her mother's usual spot at the copilot's station. Myk winked at his little girl. "Ready to save the galaxy, Little Princess?"
Evelina rolled her eyes. "Daddy, you're so dramatic sometimes."
Coruscant STC Tower
It was, all told, an incredibly boring job. In school, he'd had dreams of conducting great starships and space cruisers in a beautiful symphony of motion within the clouds of the galaxy's most magnificent planet. In reality, he was a glorified traffic cop, monitoring lines on a computer screen, and making sure the dots on that same screen stayed on those lines. He rarely even looked at the sky anymore despite the face that his station was along the wall of transparisteel that lined the Space Traffic Control tower in which he worked.
So it was only to be expected that he'd missed the barely visible static blips coming down the gravity well behind a brighter, steadier blip currently tagged as an ancient YT-2000 called Menacing Mynock. It was only natural that when his station began blaring a full alert that he'd spilled hot caf in his lap, startled into motion. It was completely excusable then, that he had stood and tried desperately to shake his pants dry while staring out the viewscreen as the YT was being chased by an equally ancient lambda-class shuttle and firespray blastboat instead of sounding the general alarm like he should have. The ships had flown so close to the tower that he swore he could see the seams in the hull plating. They'll buy that, Ensign Jackson said to himself. It's really not my fault.
So it was that a full three minutes passed before the general alarm was sounded, and the report was sent that there were hostile ships in Coruscant airspace heading for the Senate District.
Coruscant Skylanes
"Mayday! Mayday!" Myk-Ron tried to sound genuinely frightened on the opencom. "This is the Menacing Mynock! I don't know how they followed us, but we've got two pirates on our tails trying to shoot us down! Help!"
He banked the Firebird around one of the myriad spires jutting up from this section of the city-world. Nik and Vince were doing a fine job of keeping on his tail, and presenting hostile without needing to fire a shot. Myk-Ron grinned and swooped down toward an S.T.C. tower, bringing the 'Bird in close enough to rattle the windows. Evelina, in the copilot's chair gripped the arms tightly but wore a smile from ear to ear.
Myk had the joint military HQ tagged on the rapidly expanding and changing topographical overlay map displayed on the console near his H.U.D. It was a red-outlined structure amidst a veritable spiderweb of green wireframe buildings, spires, towers, skywalks, and speeder lanes. He flipped the 'Bird onto her side and slipped between two skyscrapers. He saw Nik and Vince peel off to either side before course-correcting on the other side of the building, and hopping back on his tail. Their ships were blue dots on the map trailing his green icon. Soon enough, though, Myk-Ron saw dozens of red blips emerging from speeder lanes and hidden hangar bays along their crazy route through the Senate District.
Trusting the Force to guide his hands as he wove a suicidal path through the durasteel jungle of Coruscant, Myk-Ron stretched out to the two Rogues on his tail. Concentrating, he projected a simplified image of the map and the many red dots converging upon their positions. He then sent the mental equivalent of a salute and good luck.
He dropped the 'Bird to skim just above the tops of the buildings as he neared the joint military HQ, and began counting in his head. Three…two…now!
A low-power laser burst from Nik's Phantom caught the Firebird in the rear quadrant just above the cargo ramp. The pirate's precise shot triggered a hidden piece of pyrotechnic machinery hidden just below the plating. A massive explosion of sparks spewed forth, followed by an equally huge plume of thick black smoke. Myk put a good wobble into his flight profile, and dropped his speed as they flew directly over HQ. From the rear of the ship, he could just hear the rushing wind as the cargo ramp lowered into position. Myk dropped the 'Bird a bit lower and slower, and held his breath.
Down and safe, Nerfhearder. Arie's voice filled his mind with a sense that she was rolling her eyes. Myk-Ron grinned, and kicked his ship into a rolling loop that soon had him nose down and plunging into the depths of Coruscant's undercity.
When above him there was naught but the undersides of taller structures, Myk-Ron flipped a switch on his console sending another piece of pyrotechnic trickery sailing out from the stern of the Firebird. There was a bright flash, the sound of thunder, and a roiling cloud of smoke effectively enveloping the ship. Guided by the Force, and decades of experience behind the stick, Myk piloted his freighter blind through support girders and structural beams until he managed to park her in a little-used maintenance bay five hundred stories below the Joint Military HQ.
He put the engines on standby, and shut down all unnecessary systems before lowering the personnel ramp. "Your cue," He spoke into the shipboard intercom. He was answered by two clicks on his headset communicator as Ethan and Marin exited the ship, and began their short, but treacherous journey to the NR armory.
Hands moving deftly across his control board, Myk-Ron sliced into HQ security, and, in a few minutes more had an overlay map of HQ and access to security cams throughout the massive complex displayed on his forward viewports.
Evelina was visibly bouncing in her seat next to him. "Let's do that again!"
"This is it!" Arie called over the howling winds.
She, Ryneas, and Callista stood ready at the opened cargo ramp, waiting for the signal to jump. Seconds later, there was a small explosion and a billowing smoke trail coming from just above the ramp. She felt the ship wobble, drop, and slow to something just above suicidal. She started a count in her head, and placed a hand on Callista and Ryneas, moving to the edge of the ramp. Three…two…now!
Arie dived free of the speeding freighter with Ryneas and Callista to either side. Below, the rooftop of the Joint NR Military HQ rapidly approached. Arie flipped over in free fall to point her booted feet toward the roof, and drew deeply on the force. To her left and right, she could feel Calli and Ryneas doing the same. Just before impact, she threw both hands forward, and pushed. The counter exertion of the Force against her fall slowed and softened the impact significantly. Instead of liquefying on contact with the permacrete and durasteel of the rooftop, her feet hit hard, and she rolled with the impact, coming up into a run toward a very startled guard. He'd barely had time to react before Arie drew her sidearm and put three stunbolts into his chest.
The guard slumped next to the personnel rooftop access hatch that was his station, and Arie searched his pockets for his passkey. Calli and Ryneas took up positions to either side of the hatch. Arie could feel Myk's worry, and she watched the Firebird hesitate slightly near the edge of the HQ rooftop. She smiled for a second, shaking her head. Down and safe, nerfhearder, she sent him. Then she watched as the 'Bird, trailing a huge plume of black smoke, inverted and dived down the duracrete canyon next to the HQ building.
Ryneas had the unconscious guard's glove off and his hand poised over the scanner. Arie nodded once to the young man, and slid the procured keycard into the appropriate slot while Ryneas pressed the limp hand to the scanner. There was the slightest hesitation before the indicator lights on the panel next to the hatch changed to green, and the sound of the bolts within the door alerted the group that it was unlocked. Callista opened the door with Arie providing cover while Ryneas moved the guard to a sitting position against the door-frame as though he were just sleeping on the job.
Once all three were inside, the door closed behind them and plunged them into relative darkness. Callista let out an audible breath. She'd been using the Force to hide their presence from the security holocam outside, causing a five second loop of the lone guard shuffling his feet to replay for the entire minute they'd taken since making the drop. It was a serious effort, and Arie could tell Calli was a little winded. But, in a second's time, Callista straightened, nodded to Arie and began trotting down the access hallway. Arie grinned, and followed.
Marin felt a little giddy, if she were being honest with herself about the situation. She clenched onto the crash webbing, sitting across from Ethan in the rear of the ancient ship. She wore an equally antiquated set of combat armor, gleaned from a hidden storage compartment onboard. Marin had no idea why Master Myk-Ron would have a set of armor aboard the ship that had clearly been designed for a teenage girl. Marin had the sense that it had belonged to someone a long time ago, and could almost feel a sense of nostalgia from Master Myk as he popped open the old storage unit.
It was just a little snug around the chest, but was easily adjusted. The whole ensemble was done in matte black, and came with a pretty sophisticated helmet for as old as it was. It took only a few minutes to reprogram the onboard computer to sync with Ethan's more advanced system. She had a map of the complex they'd be "assaulting" up on her H.U.D. along with a mission timer and other pertinent information. And, she could smell the faintest hint of perfume. Whoever had owned this armor in the past was very much in touch with her feminine side. The scent reminded Marin of the air in the mountains around the Praxeum with just a hint of some exotic fruit thrown into the mix. She wasn't much into girly things, but had to admit it beat the pants off the usual old sweat and blood smell she had grown to associate with armor of any kind.
At that moment the ship lurched as though hit by incoming fire. That was the first signal. With the slightest of groans, the cargo ramp began to lower. Marin looked to her right as Masters Arie and Callista rose from their seats, Ryneas joining them at the edge of the ramp. The wind howled, and Marin could see a large plume of black smoke trailing out the back of the firebird just above the cargo ramp. The freighter slowed, imperceptibly, and dropped altitude. Marin could feel the sensation in her stomach despite the inertial compensators.
And then, they jumped. The three of them dived out the back of a low-flying starship without parachutes or repulsor tech. They just went. She couldn't help but be awed by the pure skill one would need to not simply liquefy upon contact with the surface ten meters below. But, as she stretched out her senses, she could tell. Not one of them was worried. Not one of them even appeared very concerned. As the Firebird leveled out and headed for its next course adjustment, Marin could see the three hit the roof, roll, and come up running. She let loose a small whistle as the ramp groaned again, and shut itself.
"You'll be that good soon enough," Ethan nodded from across the way."Keep up your training, and you'll be something else entirely."
Marin just nodded in reply. She found herself wondering if the Mando wasn't a little Force sensitive, and just didn't know it. More likely, though, he was just exceptionally good at reading people.
She felt her stomach try to rise into her throat again as Master Myk piloted the ancient ship over the edge of the military HQ, and deep into Coruscant's underworld. Marin and Ethan would be departing soon, to stage a mock assault on a military armory not far from HQ. She ran through a mental checklist as she checked all her weapons. She took a calming breath, and prepared herself.
After a heartbeat, Master Myk-Ron's voice came over the ship's intercom as the engines whined down. "Your cue," he said, and the cargo ramp lowered, revealing the dark and dank underworks of the Senate District. Their target was several blocks north and as many stories up. Ethan had his jetpack, and Marin had the Force.
Ethan slammed the bolt on his carbine into place, stood, and gave Marin the slightest of nods. She imagined she could see his smile behind his helmet. She stood and strode down the ramp with him, her HUD already working out the quickest route to her objective and overlaying the map with a faint green line suggesting her path. "Let's be bad guys," Ethan said, kicking in his jet back. Marin grinned then, and with a boost from the Force leapt after him.