Sturm frowned. "Oh, come now, Colonel. You wouldn't want the fighter, too? It's a prototype T-Forty Seven. They're testing them as defensive snub fighters for spaceborne mining outposts." Vardossk bobbed his head. "Flew a stock T-Forty Seven and killed a Rancor with it back on Dathomir. Now there's a story for a better time."
Sturm widened his eyes, impressed while he sipped his drink. "Sad they lost to Sienar Fleet Systems for the big military contract. I believe Incom makes better fighters, having seen them in action, before. Still, you could fit that wedge fighter aboard the Sanguine Sunrise and have a pilot for it, too." He sighed. "I can't bring myself to have it jettisoned and blasted to oblivion. So much engineering went into it."
The Trandoshan considered the benefits. "That would certainly extend my operational reach, but now I get a favor from you down the line, easing your burdens. My crew was perfectly balanced, before this."
"More hands make lighter work, but fair enough." Sturm smiled, and another handshake was made. "Now with that aside, let's get to the real matter at hand," the Captain began. "Your Mandalorian provided an invaluable service in hitting that shuttle with that tracker. Our scanners pick it up rather well."
"Tanza was a former Navy Commando, I'd have expected no less from him," spoke Vardossk. "So, let's see where Alyssa's new hiding place is." Sturm nodded. The table came to life with a holographic projection of the galaxy, itself. "Seems our distressful damsel has now made her way to Raxus Prime." "That isn't too far, still in the Tion hegemony," mused the Trandoshan. "Still, that dump makes Ord Mantell look like a resort, even with Dooku and the CIS gone from the place." "Eh," shrugged Sturm. "It easily beats that sinkhole Melida-Daan." He turned to Vardossk. "Could you imagine two factions warring for even a planet's simple name? For centuries? The planet itself is one giant mausoleum from all the years of infighting. Insanity." He pulled up a detailed image of the planet itself.
The orb then magnified. "Give me a moment while I run some information through," the Captain stated while he clacked the keys of a keyboard in a table side control panel. Vardossk shrugged his shoulders in his jacket. "This crew I have now, they're special to me," stated the reptilian. "I've ran some cool outfits before this one, and the teams my subordinates run are SOG, all the way, but these outcasts, they make the ship feel...homey." "How romantic," quipped the Captain. "And quit worrying. Everything will work out. Here we are. Raxus Prime." Sturm cleared his throat.
"The planetary government is a corporate dictatorship controlled by Sienar Fleet Systems-funny we just mentioned them," smiled the Captain as he swilled his beverage. "You know they're our main supplier for fighters, shuttles, and other ships." "Not a coincidence," the Trandoshan replied and he stroked his chin. "The T4a is one of their designs."
"Precisely. It's also been rumored a black market connection is established there to scrub stolen hardware and vehicles." "Rumored?" asked Vardossk. "I think we have reason to believe that's where it is." "Most likely. Naturally, sending a detachment of Troopers down there would be, well, stupid, so this is where your expertise comes into play." Vardossk looked over at the Captain. "You realize you're the only Imperial besides me that thinks that? Everyone else would drop a regiment and four AT-AT's on the site and wonder how everyone got away."
Sturm laughed at that. "Helps we're in the only corner of the Empire untouched by the insidious reach of Governor Tarkin. He's drafting a new battle program that encompasses exactly that." The Trandoshan growled ever so slightly at that as he exhaled. "My mind reels at the implications," he then frowned. "So, about the settlement itself. What information is there of it?" Sturm nodded. "It's a quaint little junker haven known as Arkweld." Vardossk licked his teeth, then replied. "Sounds idyllic, with its rusted mountain ranges and hazy orange skies." Sturm smirked. "Should make a note to take a vacation there with the wife, sometime." The Captain then pulled up a small screen. "Here. Traffic logs indicate take off and landing confirmations, even black market ports are still bound to those, or a wing of TIE fighters intercepts the ship and adds it to the topography." "Smart," Vardossk agreed.
"Doubly so, as I now know Sykes' ship is operating from already stolen codes. She knew the planet would be alerted to her presence, otherwise. Checking the 'mission' she claimed she was on." The Captain hummed at the logs, then highlighted a selection. "Parts and technical crew, logistical supplies, and medical equipment for the settlement." "Shame she isn't actually delivering those." "You're telling me, Colonel. I'd met her once before, a charming woman, so I believed. I still can't believe she'd turned to this," he frowned, and Vardossk sensed no sarcasm, there. Sturm perked up once the screen loaded.
"Here! It was from a few hours ago, but there she is!" "A holographic screen floated in mid air, and a security feed showed the settlement in a grainy, but visible display. The woman of the hour stood with several shady characters, and spoke with a uniformed man outside a fenced in hangar. Her blue jacket was distinct enough, and her long, jet black hair only reaffirmed the sight.
"That's her, no mistaking it!" Sturm exclaimed, and even Vardossk felt a jolt of excitement at the sight of Alyssa. "That shipyard is where the illegal craft are taken for scrubbing." "We wouldn't want to copy her style with one of the ships on board to get close, it would be obvious." Vardossk stated, and Sturm nodded. "Right. I'm guessing your best course of action is, like back on Ord Mantell, land outside of the mission zone, then infiltrate and see what can be uncovered. Even if she isn't there when we arrive, perhaps that shipyard could be shut down, for good," Sturm suggested. "Perhaps it's better we don't, and leave it so we can track the black market creeps in the future if we need to. Routing them without need would be a folly, and incite suspicion in darker places we'll need to go should she escape."
"You aren't as tired as I'd thought," the Captain replied, then sighed. "Alright. Taking Sykes is still the number one objective. With the new crew additions, you should have a greater chance to do just that." "I'm taking this as a test to cut everyone's teeth with," Vardossk admitted. "Sykes is a devil par excellence, Sturm. Duped even me, and I'm not taking any chances assuming she'll be easily-" "Oh, quit crying. Even I've been tricked...occasionally. Don't let her cunning shake your resolve." The Trandoshan sighed and shook his head. "It's just, getting shot at by one of our own shuttles by someone who was once in our ranks...It has shaken me up, to be honest." He then remembered the Twi'lek said similar back in her smoke shop, and he empathized with her. So this is where I level up.
"Treachery has the ultimate price to be paid, and SFS will be alerted to halt all planetary flights. Discreetly." Sturm replied, then pulled up a regional map of the site the tracker pinged from. "A suitable tarmac, and only three quarters of a klick from the hangar. Go in low, and you'll remain unnoticed." "Speaking of unnoticed, Captain," the Trandoshan hummed. "Have any spare attire from captured acquisitions on board, still? My crew's going to need to dress down for this." "What? You didn't want everyone in Stormtrooper armor, charging in blithely? Imagine the 501st bounty hunting." The two men spent a moment in laughter, and after Sturm took another drink, he spoke.
"Now, to answer your question, yes, the evidence room will be opened up, and it'll be better to have your crew there to pick out whatever they want." he paused. "They can just clean it out, to be honest, as I'll have to incinerate it all to make room, later." "I'm sure they'd like to pick through and find some rougher cut clothes and gear, yeah," smiled the Trandoshan, and he continued. "Since the journey is still going to take some time, my crew should get the Rust-Jaw booster in case they cut themselves on any scrap they might climb. Didn't have it back on Ord Mantell, but we were lucky enough to not need it."
Sturm nodded at that. "We use a multi-shot, here for field agents. Covers all common contagion." Vardossk didn't have to think but a moment. "Perfect." "Oh, and also," Sturm added. "Feel free to let your team take whatever blasters they feel like having, too, as fresh E-11's and DLT's will draw too much attention. And as free gifts."
Vardossk looked into the star map for a moment and looked at how far he and his crew traveled thus far. "Can't refuse that. Shall we get everything going? I still have to get SOG cards made, and get everyone through the trainee course." "Let's hop to it, Colonel. There's a witch that needs hunting."